


Fragmentary Assurances

by EternalSurvivor



Series: Shinobi Don't Promise [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Trauma, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Kyuubi Attack, M/M, Minor Character Death, OC Free, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Genin Umino Iruka, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-01-06 18:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18394001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalSurvivor/pseuds/EternalSurvivor
Summary: For Iruka and Kakashi, everything changed the night of Kyuubi's attack. This is how they coped with the aftermath.(Or the strangest roommates Hokage-sama ever shoved together))





	1. The Kyuubi Attack

**Author's Note:**

> Beta Reader is: ItachisOkami
> 
> This is the first part in an ongoing, very ambitious series on my behalf. It is going to be a long look at my take on the Kakashi and Iruka relationship if they knew each other from a young age. What that would entail, and how it may change them as people.

“No! Let me go!” Small fingers gripped at the shinobi’s arm, nails digging into the material of the jounin blues. “My parents are still out there fighting!” Struggling did little good. The shinobi’s hold was fierce, almost too tight. That didn’t deter his determination. Fuelled by desperation, Iruka kicked out against the ninja’s side and hip. “I can’t leave them behind-!”

A sudden jerk to the side clipped his chin off the shinobi’s elbow. The force put his teeth through his tongue, leaving him momentarily dazed. A coppery taste filled his mouth. Iruka squinted, vision blurry from an updraft of heavy dust. The Kyuubi’s hind leg kicked up several nearby houses. Screams rang in his ears, panicked and terrified. _There are people trapped in there..._

Iruka was placed on his feet before the thought completely fully registered. He spat out blood, a trembling hand covering his mouth. Dark eyes fixed on the collapsed building. For a moment, time ran still. _They’re all going to die._ The shinobi grasped his chin a little too tightly, forcibly turning the boy’s attention onto him. When had he knelt down? Iruka winced, stopping himself from jerking back. “There’s a shelter due North.” The shinobi’s head motioned to the left, indicating which way he was to go. “Run fast. Don’t look back.”

Iruka felt his stomach do an uncomfortable flip and settle a bit heavier in his gut. “What about you?” He stammered, hands clenching tightly enough for his nails to dig half moons into his palms. The stinging helped him focus a bit.

“This is a civilian district.” That explains more than he needed to know. People were trapped and dying in there. Helpless Konoha citizens who couldn’t save themselves. “Now go. That’s an order, soldier.”

The shinobi was gone before Iruka took a step. His legs quivered, making him put more effort into moving than he wanted to dwell on. He took off into the trees, skirting just beyond the buildings and civilian farmlands. The ground rumbled and shook each time the Kyuubi roared. Those demonic cries vibrated through his very core. He could see the creature in the distance, thrashing and swatting those massive paws. _Like being irritated by flies._

Iruka bit his bottom lip, shoulders hunching as he fought down more tears. The boy breathed deep through his nose. Once. Twice. A sob warbled at the back of his throat. Iruka bit down harder on his lip, worrying it between his teeth. He was training to be a shinobi, like his parents. He could get himself to the shelter. The time to cry would come. Scrubbing his sleeve across his face, Iruka willed his legs to go faster-

A sudden gale whipped over his head, pushing Iruka almost off his feet. The boy stumbled forward, hands braced against a tree trunk just as the crash happened. One of Kyuubi’s tails smashed into Hokage mountain, just to the left of Shodai’s head where one of the shelters was located. Iruka watched in stunned silence, as rocks crumbled from the mountainside like dried clay flecks. Dust billowed into the air, settling a thick smog over the area. A cold sweat broke out across his skin.

And then it all came crashing down.

Iruka let out a cry, lurching back as heavy boulders crashed to the ground in a rush. The grass shook beneath his feet; a steady rumbling that made each step shaky and uncertain. He pushed some chakra into his soles; like his mother showed him to do. His control wasn’t the best yet, it wouldn’t last long. The tree he’d been leaning against broke with a snap, giving under the added pressure. Earth half engulfed the buildings beneath the Hokage Monument. Homes. Businesses. A whole section of the village was gone in a few seconds.

The shaking made him lose his footing and knocked the wind from his lungs. He pushed up gasping, trying to sit. The rocks and dust plowed towards him. _There's not enough time. I can’t get away!_ Iruka folded his arms before his face, barely able to brace himself for the impact. Everything went black.

Iruka came to with a startling pressure pushing down on his legs and stomach. Heavy. It was too heavy. He groaned, gravel sliding off his arms as he brought his hands up to rub across his face. Everything hurt, from his head right down to his toes. Slowly, he cracked an eye open and found he was forced to squint. Dust made the air thick. His eyes watered, lungs aching each time he drew in a ragged breath.

Iruka pushed the gravel off his chest, shoving a few larger rocks aside until he was free enough to sit up. Miraculously, the landslide stopped before it covered his face. Pure, dumb luck. That’s the only reason he was alive. Tears left mucky streaks down his cheeks. He shook his legs, wiggling and pushing at the heavy stone until he pulled himself free. _Shelter. Have to get to the shelter_. The boy repeated that over in his mind like a mantra.

A Mantra for survival.

Standing, he brushed the dirt from his clothes and skin with shaking hands. He hugged himself, gripping hard on his arms until his skin burned. Deep scrapes littered his limbs, torso and chin. Brown hair hung limp around his shoulders, caked in dirt and dust. Iruka tugged his collar up over his nose, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. His vision kept going black around the edges. And why was everything still shaking-?!

The Kyuubi’s cries echoed somewhere to the left, muffled from the thick smog. Besides that, it was... eerily quiet. No cries for help. No screams of pain. Just the dull thunk of a rock dropping or sliding.

Iruka blindly walked forward, feet sliding along the loose gravel. The smog made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. He staggered every so often, knees almost buckling beneath his own weight. When his foot suddenly hit porcelain, it was enough to cause pause. An ANBU Mask.

The smooth material was cold to the touch. Lifeless and impersonal. Like the shinobi that wore them. Iruka turned it over in his hands, eyes fixed on the red swirled; a deep crack split across the forehead to left eye hole. A hound. Iruka hugged the mask to his chest. Not even the elite survived. Yet he here he was. What value did an academy student have? He couldn’t protect his home. He couldn’t protect his own parents. I garbled cry left him, anger mixing with the sharp ache in his chest. _I can’t help anyone!!_ Iruka kicked a gravel mound and froze.

A shoulder. That was a shoulder.

“H-Hang on!” Iruka dropped to his knees, shoving rock and stone off the person trying to clear more skin. Grey armour. A shinobi. They could still- “I’ll get you out.” This one he could still help. He pushed at the gravel, fingers sinking into a shock of silver hair dirtied by muck and dust. The ever, so slight shift of the shinobi’s head had Iruka’s heart in his throat. “Just hang on!!” He cried, shifting and shoved his weight against a boulder. It took all his strength to roll it off the ninja.

An arm broke free of the loose earth, head rolling to the side as the shinobi gasped for air. Raspy coughs wracked the half-buried body. Another boy. He didn’t sound much older than Iruka. “Let me-” He kicked frantically at some of the bigger stones. Exhaustion pulled at his muscles, making him shake worse. “Come on.” The shinobi coughed harder, his arms almost folding beneath him. “You gotta try harder.” Why was he still holding the damn mask?!

The shinobi shook his head, shoulders shaking as more coughs racked his body. “I’m fine.” He rasped, voice hoarse and strained. “Get to a shelter.”

“No!” One of the larger boulders rolled free beneath Iruka’s kicks. _That’s it! Just a few more._ “I ain’t leaving you here to die too.” He pushed the gravel down the shinobi’s back, wincing at the blood seeping into the grey flak jacket. A nasty wound Iruka couldn’t see. He shook the ninja’s scraped shoulder hard, voice rising in angered panic. “Get your butt in gear and help!”

Finally, the shinobi brought his hands into a snake seal and rasped. “Doton: Earth Wave Jutsu.” Iruka noticed the arm guards for the first time. One was cracked, the other broken and half missing. The boy’s eyes widened as the shinobi slammed his palm into the ground. The arm guards were ANBU issued. The rock beneath them rumbled and moved, sliding like waves away from the ANBU’s body.

Iruka watched as he crawled forward on his hands and knees, finally coming free of the landslide. Iruka noted a deep gash on his thigh, another on his temple. Blood soaked into the ANBU’s hair, but he kept his head down. A gloved hand reached out. “...Mask.” Iruka held it out without a word. An ANBU’s identity must remain a secret. His father told him that before.

With his mask now securely in place, tension seemed to drain from the ANBU. “...There’s a bunker by the eastern gate.” He got to his feet, looking every bit as haggard as Iruka felt. One arm hugged over the steadily spreading blood stain on his side. “Can you run?”

Iruka snapped to attention, hands clenching once more to calm the shaking. It felt like his muscles were trying to jump right out of his skin. Iruka set his mouth in a grim line, ignoring how his tears made the dirt cake to his cheeks stiff and uncomfortable. He was stronger than this. “I-I’m a shinobi too!” _Please don’t leave me alone._

The ANBU simply nodded once and motioned with his hand for Iruka to follow. The pair barely covered a hundred feet when a sickening crack echoed from above. The ANBU cursed loudly, grabbed Iruka by the shoulder and performed a Shunshin.

The rumblings of a second landslide seemed to shake the entire village. They landed hard against the side of a half collapsed building. Iruka yelped, his back and head colliding with concrete. He clutched his head, curling in on himself from the pain. The ANBU collided with his legs in a heap.

Iruka’s vision blurred when he dared to crack an eye open. The haze isn’t as thick here, but his eyes still watered. A tremor ran through him, making him shake from the inside out. The ANBU groaned, one hand clutching a fist full of dirty hair. Iruka’s face paled beneath the dirt. The blood stain was getting worse. _I have to help him before he bleeds out._ “Hey, let.... lemme bandage that.” He waved a hand towards the bloody flak jacket. His own arm was peppered with dark bruises and scrapes. Iruka felt the ANBU’s impact. It must have irritated whatever was bleeding pretty bad.

The older boy had his knees beneath him before he hissed between clenched teeth: “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He persisted. Iruka swallowed hard when bile began to rise up his throat. He had to help the ANBU. No one was going to die because of him.

“It’s superficial.”

“No, it’s not! You know it’s not!!” Iruka hit the bloody flak jacket to emphasize his words, gaining a pained hiss from the ANBU in return. “Why do you wanna die so bad?!”

“I-” The ANBU paused, as if taking a moment to really consider the question. With a bit of effort, he pushed himself into a sitting position, back to the tilted wall. “...I don’t...” Iruka chewed on his bottom lip again. That response left an empty, uncomfortable feeling inside him. The ANBU sounded too surprised, like he just realized he actually wanted to live.

“Then you gotta let me help.” Iruka pulled the medical pouch from the shinobi’s hip before he lost his nerve. It wasn’t common to see the higher ranks carrying anything besides weapons. The ANBU grabbed the pouch as if on impulse. Iruka stubbornly pushed at his hand. “You’ll get it back when I’m done. Promise.” A tense moment passed between them before the ANBU silently relented and undid his grey flak jacket.

Iruka helped tug it off his shoulder, cringing at how it stuck when he peeled it away from the black undershirt. For a moment, Iruka just stared in startled awe. The huge gash looked like someone tried to tear a chunk right out of him! Thankfully, it was wider than deep. “I-I’ve gotta clean it.”

“Just a small amount of chakra.” The ANBU directed.

“I know. My dad taught me-” Iruka cut himself off, forcing his shaking fingers into the seals: tiger, ox, tiger, rat. His hands fumbled a bit when he was unable to keep them steady. _Don’t think about Dad. Don’t do it._ Chakra coiled in his stomach. Iruka leaned forward, pursed his lips like he was about to whisper, and blew lightly. A light water stream washed over the wound. The ANBU tensed; one hand fisting into the discarded flak jacket. The water trickled away in a pool of brown and red.

He ran the water over his hands before ending the jutsu. It left him lightheaded and swaying a bit. Using less power needed more chakra control than he anticipated. Shaking off the floating sensation, Iruka opened large gauze pads from the small medical pouch. The ANBU pulled his shirt up enough for them to be pressed in place. “Mom showed me how to do this. So you don’t have to worry.” He pushed on the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. “She’s a jounin. Her and Dad are both...”

Iruka’s gaze shifted towards the rural area, where the Kyuubi could still be heard. He blinked a few tears away, gaze fixed on that one spot. The boy jumped when the ANBU spoke. “Breathe deep through your nose and out your mouth.” He did as instructed, not questioning the order until he realized he’d been hyperventilating.

Iruka squeezed his eyes shut, taking a few moments just to breathe. The ANBU wasn’t having this problem. He seemed to be perfectly calm. After a moment, he fished gauze rolls from the medical pouch. The ANBU took over putting pressure on the gauze pads.

He needed to talk. The silence was too much. “...Are your parents-?”

“No, they’re already dead.”

“...Oh.” Iruka went quiet, concentrating on his current task. He wound the gauze roll around the ANBU’s middle, tying each one off tightly. He used all three rolls, and one of the elastic wraps for sprains, just to be on the safe side. Iruka could see red spots before the ANBU got his shirt lowered. That wasn’t good. He ducked his head to hide his watery eyes. His head throbbed painfully. “But you’re still trying to protect your family, right?”

The porcelain mask turned away from him. “...Yes, my sensei.” The ANBU tugged his flak jacket back on, zipping it up as he got to his feet. Iruka held the medical pouch out to him. The shinobi clipped it back into place. “The bunker is close. Let’s go.”

The bunker was hidden in a low alcove, beneath a thicket of thorny shrubs. They made it without encountering any additional opposition. A few quick knocks found a hidden hatch creaking open. A chunin with her head wrapped heavily in bandages motioned them in.

Iruka took a few steps forward, stopped quickly when he realized the ANBU already turned to leave. _No! No, no, no. Not again, please. Please._ The tight churning in his stomach clenched painfully. “Wait!” Iruka lunged, managing to grab the back of his flak jacket with both hands. “You’re hurt, aren’t you coming with me?”

The ANBU looked over his shoulder silently.

A wave of nausea made Iruka swallow hard around the lump in his throat. He clutched tightly enough for his knuckles to turn white. _He’s going leave me behind. He's going to go die. I’ll be alone again-_ “Promise you’ll come back.” Still no response from the ANBU, no movement. So Iruka tries again, more desperately this time. “I-I’m Iruka. Iruka Umino. When it’s all over, come get me. Let me know you’re okay.”

The ANBU turned to him then, one gloved hand lightly falling atop Iruka’s head. He reluctantly released the flak jacket when that hand gave a light pat. “I’ll be waiting for you,” Iruka added. The shinobi nodded, gave him a light push towards the bunker, and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Lapsed Since Kyuubi's Release: One Hour


	2. Plan C

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka gets some help with a break-out, but maybe he should have stayed in the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: There is a panic attack and dead bodies in this chapter towards the end. Nothing too graphic, but just a heads up. It is a rough time for Little Iruka this chapter.

He never came back.

Lighting inside the bunker was dim. Hazy illumination highlighted only basic outlines of few civilians and other shinobi taking shelter; genin with several injured chunin sprinkled here and there. The civilians seemed to be members of prominent clans: Yamanaka, Akimichi, some Aburame and Hyuuga. Iruka could make out a few distinct clan characteristics if he squinted; crests on clothes, hairstyles, eyes.

His eyes shifted down to the styrofoam cup he currently held. Someone had shoved it into his hands and wrapped a heavy blanket around his shoulders. The wool made the scrapes along his arms sting more. A shiver went through him, worsening the tremors he hadn’t quite gotten to stop. The air was stifling; people packed into the small bunker like sardines. Iruka couldn’t understand where the chill came from.

The first few hours after Iruka hunkered down were wrought with tension. Loud crashes from outside left the entire bunker shaking and full of dust. Those taking shelter clung to each other. Iruka found himself clutched between two boys his own age; complete strangers. They threw arms around his shoulders, one on each side and squeezed. Iruka had pulled them close without protest, hands fisting into their shirts. He was just grateful to not be alone.

They remained like that, pressed cheek to cheek, until long after the rumblings finally stopped.

Now, an eerie silence had settled, both in and outside. People huddled a little closer together; any speaking done in hushed, frantic tones. It gave his mind a chance to catch up, to replay horrors he wanted to be left outside with the Kyuubi. It seems what he wanted meant very little tonight.

The silence only amplified the screams still echoing in his ears from those trapped and dying. Iruka let go of the other boys and rubbed a wrist over his eyes – aching and strained. He’s never felt so exhausted. Everyone is tired, but no one sleeps. The weariness settles into his bones. Iruka tried leaning back and closing his eyes-

Images flashed behind his eyelids: sliding rocks, a cracked ANBU mask, crushed buildings, bodies, lives ...and his mother coughing blood. He curled in on himself, knees drawing up to his chest to rest a cheek on top. Iruka inhaled a deliberately deep breath, filling his lungs to the point they ache. That’s okay. Every hurt reminds him he’s still alive.

He missed the boy on his left speaking. A hand on his shoulder made Iruka jump. He’d grabbed the ANBU in the exact same place. “Hey, you okay?” The boy probes a bit farther when Iruka doesn’t respond. “You came pretty late into the attack. How’d you make it here alone?”

Iruka squinted at the other boy in the dull light. Dark eyes met his gaze, patient and kind. “...I wasn’t alone.” The answer came after a few moments of hesitation.

Iruka’s attention shifted to the bunker’s entrance so he didn’t notice the brief look that passed between his current companions. One of the chunin sealed the latch with a large, chakra-infused deadbolt and stood guard with kunai at the ready. Secure, but not overly complicated. Perfect for a quick exit if the need arose. “You’re going back out there, aren’t you?”

Iruka caught the boy on his right speak he didn’t quite hear what was said. His ears still rung. Everything on that side sounded muffled. “No one’s come.” He’d see his mother use similar locks around their house. All he needed to do to unlock it was to infuse a burst of chakra into the keyhole. “It’s been quiet for hours.”

His parents. The ANBU. Not knowing what happened to them was twisting his stomach into knots.

The boy to his right let out a low whistle. “I don’t know if that’s stupidity or bravery talking.” They both suddenly wrapped arms around his neck, pulling Iruka into a closed-off huddle. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

Iruka’s face scrunched up a bit when he felt his eyes begin to sting again. No more tears. He couldn’t keep crying, not with everyone he cared for unaccounted for. “My mom and dad. They’re both out there. I need to find them.” His head lowered a bit. “An ANBU brought me here. He hasn’t come back yet either.”

The other two both nodded, mouths set into grim lines and downward curves. “My mothers are out there too.” Iruka could feel the boy tremble a bit before he took a deep breath. “Zumo’s dad was on gate watch tonight. We got separated from him, so a chunin brought us here.”

“Well, I’ll... I’ll find them all then.” Iruka clasped his hands together, silently willing himself the strength to pull off such a bold declaration. “We’ll come back together and get you too.”

His new companions shared another glance. When they nodded in unison, Iruka found himself wondering how they could communicate with looks and motions alone. Like trained shinobi did. His parents never taught him that. “We’ll distract the chunin, right Ko?” The boy dubbed ‘Zumo added with a strange conviction.

“Oh yeah, we got this.” Ko nodded, a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He clenching a determined fist like he was about to punch the air. “Plan C, Zumo?”

“A bold choice, my friend.”

The huddle broke with Iruka scooting a few feet away from the other two. The position put him as one of those closest to the bunker’s hatch. They sat in silence for a few moments, curled beneath the scratchy wool blankets.

A sudden shriek had Iruka almost jump out of his skin. Ko screamed again, half curling into his friend. “Ahhh!! It burns!” He cried, clutching his stomach with both hands. For a moment, Iruka's shared in shock before ducking his head to grin into the wool blanket. _This is Plan C?! Awesome!!  
_

“Help! Someone help, please.” Zumo was on his knees, arms encircling the other boy’s shoulders as he started to kick his legs. Several people were looking towards them now. A low, fearful murmur began to buzz through the crowd. “My friend’s in pain! Please!!” Iruka slowly inched farther away from them.

Ko let out an agonized wail before someone yelled. “Medic! Get the Medic!” Iruka felt his heart jump into his throat when the chunin guard came running over. It was now or never. Adrenaline shot through his system as Iruka pushed to his feet in a mad dash for the hatch. Chakra began to curl in his palm in preparation for the lock.

Iruka felt a spike of chakra, sudden and quick; someone caught by surprise. “Hey, wait!” The chunin guard called after him. A particularly loud wail ebbed behind him, followed by a shout. Iruka could hear scuffling, but didn’t look back. No time. Iruka jumped, slapping a chakra-infused hand against the deadbolt and pushed. Uncontrolled chakra slammed into the lock, cracking it slightly before falling to the floor.

Iruka jumped again, grabbing the exit ladder with both hands. He let his weight pull the slide rail down. Iruka didn’t wait for it to hit the ground. He swung himself up, scrambling onto the rungs as quickly as he could. He briefly thanked Yoshino-sensei for drilling them in rope climbing at the Academy.

Just as he grabbed the handle, something heavy seized his ankle and yanked. Iruka yelped, clutching tightly to the ladder. “Whaddaya think you’re doing?” His face paled. The chunin! She pulled on his foot, climbing onto the bottom rung to get better leverage. “Get down kid.”

In a blind panic, Iruka jerked his foot up with a cry and shoved his heel down into her face. The chunin’s pained shout twisted his stomach with guilt. _I'm so, so sorry!!_ Iruka gritted his teeth and kicked hard until her grip loosened. Shaking his leg free, he shoved his shoulder against the latch. It creaked open just enough for Iruka to scramble through.

Iruka slammed it closed, crawling through the thorny shrubs on his hands and knees. He came out of the low alcove into dead quiet. The silence clung to the night like an ominous fog. No sign of the Kyuubi. The attack was over. They’d won? Iruka swallowed around the lump in his throat, hugging himself tightly. The realization brought less comfort than he anticipated. _Gotta move. I won’t find them standing here._ With that silent resolve, Iruka started walking.

Desolation struck a few moments from the bunker. Downed buildings framed him on either side, wreckage littering the streets with rocks from the landslide the ANBU and he barely escaped. Iruka gasped, both hands raising to cover his mouth to keep him from screaming. Half entombed bodies stuck out of the rocks, unmoving, skin scorched and ashy. _Dead. They’re all dead._

Bile rose in his throat. Iruka turned to the side, almost doubling over as he vomited. Dry heaves shook his body long after his stomach emptied. His body quivered, tears blurring his vision. He’d almost gotten buried like them. The ANBU _was_ buried until he dug him out. They both could’ve died. Iruka braced his back against one of the half-crushed building, fighting to keep his knees from buckling.

Probably best to go around.

Iruka kept close to the treeline, slowly inching his way around the landslide. The market district wasn’t too far from here. He’d last seen his parents there. Seemed like as good a place to start his search as any. Smoke billowed into the hazy air, several buildings still on fire in the distance. Every once in a while, he caught a shadow out of the corner of his eye; leaping in a flurry of hurried motion. Iruka felt his heart flutter hopefully. Those were shinobi! They’d survived the attack. His parents. The ANBU. There was still a chance. _They made it fine. Of course, they did. They’re too strong to die so easily!_

Taking comfort from that thought, the boy headed towards the broken down market square. Abandoned vendor booths lay in splinters, splattered with blood and dusty from debris. Bodies lay lined straight along the roadside, civilian and shinobi alike; from young to the old. Iruka felt bile rise in his throat again and swallowed hard. It felt like sludge coating his throat. Tears slipped silently down his cheeks. _Someone alive did that._ He told himself. Another reminder.

Iruka kept as much space between himself and the bodies as he could. None of them looked familiar. Not his parents. None wore ANBU gear. None of them looked like the boys from the bunker. Not that all the corpses were readily identifiable by sight. There were _limbs_ missing; faces beat in and coated with blood. Iruka squeezed his eyes shut, running blindly past the sight.

He rounded a few corners, heading south by southwest. Trying to rectify the carnage with the marketplace he often visited with his father was difficult. His mind could correlate the two. His village was in ruins. His family... was this really the same place they’d parted... ways...?

“...Mom.”

Iruka's heartbeat pounded in his ears. Her head was turned towards him from where she lay, dead eyes staring blankly into nothing. Iruka found he couldn’t look away, not from those eyes. He blinked, vision gone blurry and black around the edges. One hand reached toward her, shaking so badly he barely stayed on his feet. “Mom.” Ice froze in his veins. He stumbled a step towards her, legs buckling from beneath him. As Iruka sank to the ground, only one clear thought rang over the pound in his head. _Where are your legs, Mom?_

Blood curdling screams resonated in his ears. Over and over again, until it drowned out every other sound. Iruka didn’t realize it was coming from him until his throat ached raw. Hands clutched into his hair, raking over his face, neck, shoulders, arms-

His fingers came away bloody with a jerk. Someone was shaking his shoulder, the grip hard enough bruise; if he wasn’t already black and blue. Iruka pulled back, recoiling from the touch. It burned, burned, burned! A gloved hand clamped over his mouth, fingers digging into his cheeks. The screams muffled before abruptly cutting off with a hard squeeze.

“-mino. Umino.” His eyes shot open (when had he closed them?), his own name finally registering. Brown irises, blown wide, darted around in unfocused, frantic motion. “Iruka!” The gloved hand jerked his head a few times. Two fingers curling beneath his chin to hold him still, forcing him to concentrated on the figure directly in front of him. “Focus.”

White and red porcelain finally came into view, a familiar crack above the eye socket. The ANBU! Iruka sobbed against his palm, his entire body slumping beneath the hard hold. He grabbed the ANBU’s arm with both hands, digging into the flesh exposed from his broken arm guard. “Don’t scream.” An order from one shinobi to another. The grip slowly loosened, gloved fingers flexing against damp skin. “That’s better.”

Iruka tilted his head just enough to shove his cheek into the older boy’s palm. His nose caught between two fingers. The ANBU tensed, mask turning to the side. But he didn’t pull away. “...Y-You...” _You’re alive!! My ANBU...!!_ He coughed, fumbling over the words in a voice hoarse from the screaming. His tongue felt like lead.

Iruka slumped forward, pressing his face into the older boy’s chest. He hit black material instead of armour. The ANBU’s flak jacket was gone; every muscle in his torso taunt with tension. “...M-mom...” Iruka sobbed again and rubbed his face into the dark muscle shirt. Tears and snot mixed with bloody grime. A hand rested atop his head, then slid down to cup his nape when Iruka looked over at his mother’s torso.

The ANBU’s flak jacket covered her so only her hair and one hand were visible. Her fingers half curled lifelessly, the tips almost burned down to the first joint. The Anbu's fingers pressed firmly to Iruka’s neck when the shaking grew worse. Was the ANBU trembling too? Iruka squeezed his eyes shut, hot tears burning his scratched cheeks. He completely crumbled then, caught under the weight of his exhaustion and grief.

If a few tears trickled from beneath the ANBU’s mask, they went unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Lapsed Since Kyuubi's Release: Five Hours


	3. Trust Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka's ANBU has an uncanny ability to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're officially moving away from most of the graphic imagery. It will be more psychological based moving forward. There is a scene of panic-induced sleep paralysis which might be a trigger for some people. Keep that in mind while reading. As always, I thank you all for your support and would love any feedback given.

Iruka didn’t feel the hunger twisting his stomach into knots. Nothing easily penetrated the all-encompassing numb that settled over him in the upcoming days. He was alone. Mom was dead. Dad hadn’t returned yet. Eating didn’t seem all that important.

He crouched down, a dirty hand lightly fluffing the pile of blankets he’d been using as a bed. His family lived on fringes of the rural district. It was one of the less affluent sections of Konoha, their home small, but cozy enough for three people. The residents consisted mostly of civilians and low ranking shinobi – farmers, labourers, retirees. Iruka grew up in the same house as his father. It had been a quiet, close-knit community.

Now it was as dead as the former inhabitants.

Everyone, but him it seemed.

His days bled together in silent isolation. Waiting for his father, his neighbours, friends, anyone to return. They would come back. Crushed houses and ruined fields meant little when the community consisted of the people, not the place. Bonds. That’s how his father always explained it to him. They would come if they were able, just to find each other.

To find him.

But they hadn’t, because they couldn’t.

 _They’re all dead and I’m alone._ The thought rang through his head so frequently, Iruka stopped counting. It took root, growing wild over the fledgling hope he’d hung onto until it lay as dead and torn apart as his mother had. The boy blinked away a few tears and scrubbed an arm across his eyes. The contact made his scraped skin sting It had grown hot and smarty. The cuts should’ve been healing by now. Maybe the dirt interfered with that? Oh well, it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

His childhood home held the imprint where two large toes came smashing through the roof. Half was crushed on contact, the other half crumbling beneath the unsupported weight. The southernmost corner of the attic was left intact enough to provide some shelter. He’d remained there since returning home.

He flopped onto his stomach, muscles quivering from the effort to hold him up. Iruka pressed deeper into the attic alcove. The nights grew colder with winter creeping up on the desolated village. A shiver went through him, making him shake worse. There was always a bit of trembling. He didn’t feel it any more than he did the hunger.

Iruka rested his cheek against a curled arm, fighting the weariness weighing his body down. The growing weakness and exhaustion crept up on him until he wore them like a second skin. Every day compounded the issue, but he didn’t want to sleep. Nightmares came with slumber, not rest. His throat ached raw from waking up screaming; half-buried bodies and his mother’s corpse caught on a constant loop in his mind.

He curled in on himself a bit, muscles jerking and jumping on adrenaline-laced fear each time his eyelids fluttered shut. Iruka flexed his jaw, opening his mouth to relieve the throbbing pressure there. Teeth clenching was a new habit he didn’t realize he fell int. Not until it began to hurt.

A deep sigh made his shoulders slump, breath hitching on an airy sob. Iruka rolled onto his back, arms crossed over his eyes. He bit his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth as the tears streamed hot and shameful into his hairline. _I’m sorry... Mom... Dad... I’m so sorry..._ Iruka mouthed the words, each a silent gasp for absolution.

 

* * *

 

The slight scent alternation was just familiar enough to cause Hound pause. He stopped, balanced nimbly atop a barn’s nearly collapsed roof. Shadows flanked either side, barely visible until his teammates halted several feet away. Kitsune's porcelain mask tilted just slightly to the side to show his interest. Chital's gloved hand raised in a half curl and flicked back: S _tatus report, Hound._

His head shifted ever so slightly to the left, nose twitching beneath the cracked mask. Hound tapped the porcelain, motioning with two fingers that hooked low _: Scent detected, investigation requested._

With a nod of confirmation from his captain, the team split. Several leaps across crumbling roofs ended with him perched on the limb of a splintered oak. Death hung thick in the air, a musk that left his nose clogged and eyes watery. The weeks of searching for survivors did little to condition his sensitive nose against the smell. The Inuzuka clan experienced a similar barrier.

Breathing too deeply made his head pound worse, but did little to dissuade his investigation. It was the only way to confirm the scent, buried as it was beneath the rotting corpses yet to be recovered. He walked to the branch’s edge, silently cutting a few wires stretched taut between the tree and crumbling house.

Hound ducked as a handful of kunai lodged into the tree trunk behind him. He caught three shuriken between his fingers. A brow raised as a viscid substance seeped through his black glove. Some homemade, sap-based concoction, if he took an educated guess. Either way, the shuriken were stuck tight. The ANBU discarded the glove, silently taking note of the rather well-knotted nets as he disabled them. The trapper was unexpectedly resourceful given the current crisis and lack of available materials.

A quick scan with his Sharingan turned up three more traps. Hound slipped between them easily before turning the spinning tomoe onto the splintered attic. His nose twitched: death, dirt, sweat, fear... and there; an all too familiar kid.

Iruka Umino.

 

* * *

 

A hollow thud startled Iruka from another nightmare. His body jolted, muscles locked and tense. Dark eyes flew open, unfocused from terror. He gasped for breath, but his chest heaved still. He tried to swallow and found his throat closing off. Panic drained the colour from a dirt-caked face. _Can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t_ -

A hand stroked down his forehead to covered his eyes. “Calm down, Umino.” His body shook at the voice, not registering who it was. Violent tremors wracked his taunt muscles as he struggled against own body. “You have to breathe.” Iruka felt himself get jerked to the side. A flat palm struck hard between his shoulder blades. One. Twice. Thrice. “Iruka!”

The fourth strike knocked something loose. A dam inside him burst wide open. Iruka shuddered, pulling in large gasps of air until his lungs burned painfully. His fingers curled around the hand covering his eyes, yanking it away. The grey arm plate strapped to a willowy limb drew a strangled whimper from his throat. “...It’s you.”

The ANBU.

Iruka dropped to his back, bottom lip quivering a bit. Tears clung to his lashes as he stared up at the mask and shock of distinctive silver hair. It was still cracked across the left socket. Why the older boy hadn’t changed it was a mystery. He didn’t know how long specifically, but it’d been days, perhaps weeks, since the Kyuubi Attack.

The ANBU stood from his kneeling position at Iruka’s side. “What are you doing out here?”

Iruka visibly flinched at the icy, detached tone behind the question. He expected the ANBU to sound angry, not so withdrawn. Instead of responding, he forced himself into a sitting position.

“You need to leave.”

“...I-I can’t.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I’m not leaving!” It was almost a scream. Almost. He couldn’t muster the energy to put any real power into the desperate declaration. Iruka’s hands squeeze into fists. “My dad might still...”

“If your father hasn’t returned, then he isn’t going to.”

Iruka scowled, bile raising bitter in his throat. The pressure in his chest tightened. Iruka felt it coil into anger until his nails dug into the palms of his clenched hands. Hot, white, all-consuming rage twisted with loss and denial. “You don’t know that!” Tears burn down his cheeks.

The ANBU reached back to grip his katana handle. It’s the only movement he made since standing. “No one’s been recovered alive for three days.”

Those words stabbed right through what was left of his heart. Iruka stared at the ANBU in shock, his mind trying to wrap around those words to incorporate them into his shattered reality. Tears streamed down his cheeks. _No one alive in days..._ _Dad._ Iruka shook his head. _That can’t be right. It just can’t._ But the ANBU wouldn’t lie after everything they’d been through together.

Right?

Iruka watched the older boy quietly, dread slowly swelling through the pain in his chest. The ANBU remained ridged and still, arms crossed over his grey flak jacket. Iruka chewed on his bottom lip again, hands curling in an attempt to calm his nerves. The ANBU was too calm; like he’d pulled away from anything meaningful and wrapped himself up in a solitary cage. The mismatched eyes staring back at him were apathetically brumal.

“...Did you protect your sensei?” The ANBU visibly startled at the question. His mask turned away from Iruka. That was all the confirmation he needed. Iruka ground his palm into an eye, ignoring the tears still clinging to his lashes. He’d never felt so tired, like the exhaustion dug straight into his bones. “...I couldn’t protect my family either.” The admission came quietly; laced with a painful shame.

They were the same.

An awkward silence settled between them and stretched for several minutes. The ANBU sighed, holding his ungloved hand out to Iruka. “Come on. This area hasn’t been cleared for habitation.”

Iruka’s gazed fixed on the outstretched hand, brows furrowing into a frown. “This is my home.” __This is all I have left.__ He stubbornly remained put.

“Just...” The older boy ran a free hand through his hair, mussing the silver locks to look even more dishevelled. “Trust me.”

“How’m I supposed to do that when I don’t even know your name?” The question tumbled from Iruka’s lips like word-vomit, out in the open before he truly thought them all the way through.

The ANBU’s hand fisted quickly, the muscles in his arms tense. The cracked mask shifted right-to-left, then behind. Iruka couldn’t comprehend why until he spoke again. “...Kakashi.”

“Kakashi?” Iruka blinked, then sucked in a surprised breath when the pieces clicked together. “That... That’s your name.” He was making sure they were alone. ANBU were anonymous soldiers, their identities closely guarded secrets. They weren’t allowed to reveal themselves to the public. And he’d just broke that rule.

The ANBU dubbed Kakashi nodded once, a quick, subtle confirmation, and held his hand out to Iruka again. “Let’s go.”

Iruka reached out, hesitating just as their fingers brushed. A startling flash of fear from the back of his brain hijacked his vocal cords spewed out an ultimatum: “Only if you promise not to leave me alone again.” His hand pulled back, uncertainty built atop fear and isolation. Iruka knew what he was asking. Shinobi didn’t make promises. Right now, Iruka didn’t care. The older boy already disappeared on him twice with the painfully clear intention of not returning. Iruka’s head hung low, voice a quiet quiver as he added: “...I-I don’t want to be alone anymore.” _I don’t think you want to be either._

A sharp breath hissed between gritted teeth. Those mismatched eyes seemed to bore holes right through him. Kakashi’s fingers flexed, but he didn’t pull his hand away. It remained extended towards Iruka, an olive branch marred by doubt and loss. Mistrust would burn it to cinders. “...I... I promise.” The words seemed to stick in his throat. Kakashi thrust his hand toward the younger boy, all patience finally dissolved. “Now, let’s go.”

He studied the ANBU for a moment; mouth set in a firm line. Kakashi could be lying. There was a good chance he was. But this... this small fleck of hope took root in him and blossomed forth a warmth Iruka hadn’t known was missing.

“Okay.” With a nod, Iruka took Kakashi’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Lapsed Since Kyuubi's Release: Two Weeks


	4. Cosmoline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiruzen has a few things to discuss with Kakashi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been so excited to write this chapter. It was super fun. Time for a bit of the story from Kakashi's perspective this time. For those curious, cosmoline is an actual thing that is used to reduce the corrosiveness of weapons. I just tweaked it to better fit with ninja usage. All feedback is welcome and greatly appreciated.

His shoulders slouched forward, hands buried deep in his pockets. Tension settled in the room, a long silence stretching between them as he waited for the Hokage to speak. Despite being under this man’s direct command, Kakashi never grew comfortable in his prescience. Hiruzen seemed perfectly content to take his time pinching tobacco into his pipe, however. Just how much of this was a test?

The past few months had been a clusterfuck. There was no other way to describe it. Minato-sensei and Kushina-san were dead. The Kyuubi attacked Konoha, his village. And just like every other time, he’d been unable to protect those most precious to him: a useless tool unable to complete its function.

The Sandaime’s orders and the barrier had kept him from being where he was needed; from doing his duty. At the most crucial moment, Kakashi let his emotions (anger, guilt, sorrow) cloud his judgment, let himself be susceptible to influence. He blamed the Hokage for their deaths and Danzo Shimura pounced. Like an idiot, he believed that monster’s words. Clung to them like a starved man desperate for nourishment.

The bright future Minato-sensei sought couldn’t be achieved with someone as foolhardy and idealistic as Hiruzen Sarutobi as Hokage again. Whether it was his ideals or something more sinister, the man would drive more young shinobi to early graves. The future couldn’t be entrusted to someone like him. Standing before the memorial stone, listening to Danzo’s words, an image of Iruka Umino kept coming to mind: Iruka telling him to get his butt in gear with a landslide between them. Iruka grabbing his flak jacket, saying to come get him. Iruka, broken and crying into his chest before his dead mother.

Kakashi listened and he believed.

It started out small. A rumour here and there, piece of Intel picked up through lips a bit too loose and trusting. Then team divisions and assignments. Kakashi carried out each with the rationale the assignments contributed to the larger goal. But then the warning bells started ringing. _Look underneath the underneath._ Minato-sensei taught that lesson well.

The mokuton user set off neon warning signs. A boy no older than Iruka, wielding an extinct jutsu used only by the Shodai Hokage. Something didn’t add up. So Kakashi went digging straight into Hiruzen’s private records. Missing shinobi, kidnapped infants, and a genetic experiment under Danzo’s direct control?

And then the assassination order came to kill the Sandaime Hokage.

Hiruzen drew a long puff from his pipe, smoke wisping through the air on an exhale. He folded his hands on the desk before him as he regarded Kakashi. Sharp eyes contrasted oddly with the weathered lines on his aged face. “This is the fifth time Iruka Umino has successfully escaped the orphanage in the last two months.”

Kakashi remained perfectly still, shoulders slouched and face blank.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with cosmoline.”

The ANBU nodded once. Of course, he was. All shinobi, of chunin rank and higher, used cosmoline on their weapons sporadically. It was a viscous, petroleum-based oil most effective against rust due to long-term moisture exposure. Missions to the Land of Water usually had him carrying a vial or two. Odourless and clear, cosmoline complete sealed steel and metal against water damage. Liquid collected atop the cosmoline to be easily wiped away. The downside was the added layer of slipperiness left behind.

“It seems our mutual, young friend got his hands on some.” The Hokage opened one of the files sitting neatly to the corner of his desk and skimmed through it quickly. A report, most like on the incident at hand. “Iruka coated every rooftop in a mile wide radius of the orphanage with cosmoline." Hiruzen paused to let that sink in, then added lightly. "The village experienced quite the heavy rain yesterday.”

Kakashi’s visible brow raised in curious intrigue, the pieces quickly clicking into place. Such a simple, yet ingenious plan. He already knew Iruka to be intelligently resourceful. The traps he’d rigged around his family’s desolated homestead proved that well enough. It seems the boy possessed a devious, underhanded streak as well.

“Seven chunin, three jounin and our newest ANBU recruit have yet to be released from the hospital.” Kakashi knew the Hokage well enough to pick up on the impressed undertone to his words.

Hiruzen drew another puff from his pipe, brows furrowing sharply. His attention narrowed in on Kakashi. “Why is an academy student running through the streets, yelling for one of my ANBU by name?”

Kakashi gave a noncommittal hum and shrugged one shoulder. “Mah, who knows?”

The aging Hokage openly scowled at the younger shinobi, chakra flaring quick and angry. “Give a truthful answer, Soldier.”

Kakashi stiffened; the blood in his veins running cold. _The God of Shinobi_. He heard the tales. Every aspiring shinobi did. This was his first time feeling that might turn on him, though. His back straightened, bringing him to full attention. That was a direct order given by his Hokage. There was no wiggling around it if he wanted to avoid reprimanding. “...I promised not to leave him alone.”

“That doesn’t sound like you, Kakashi.” The pipe puffs come more aggressively now. “What influenced you to make such a rash breech of protocol?”

Kakashi’s hands clenched in his pockets. “There were landslides during the attack. I was buried alive.” The fresh scar along his ribs ached at the memory. “Iruka dug me out and dressed my wounds. I found him in the rural district two weeks later, emaciated and full of infection. He’d been living there, waiting for his father, Ikkaku Umino. The man was dead.” The ANBU didn’t add how he knew that. It went unspoken he’d tracked the man. _Right to a body bag missing an arm and half his face_. Kakashi shook the thought loose and buried it deep with the rest. “The stubborn fool refused to leave. That so called 'promise' was to coax him out. Nothing more.”

“So you lied to him.” They both knew he could’ve simply knocked Iruka out and carried him away. Hiruzen chose not to mention that option, despite it being the one Kakashi would normally choose in such a situation.

“A life for a life.” His grey eye hardened, the only indication that Kakashi took offence. He shouldn't have to defend his methods. In the end, Iruka was alive and healthy. “I was repaying a debt.”

Hiruzen swivelled in his chair, turning to gaze out the window behind his desk. Smoke billowed above him in a small cloud, evidence to how aggressively he puffed on his pipe. Kakashi’s keen hearing picked up an audible sigh and quiet admission of: “...I’m getting too old for this.”

A tense silence passed between them as the Hokage weighed his next move. Kakashi is keenly aware of the ANBU guard witnessing this entire exchange. He’d already recognized Genma and the Commander on duty. Great. That meant hazing in the locker room next shift. The teen shifted his weight from one foot to the other when Hiruzen finally turned to address him again. “You’ve never been a dishonest person, Kakashi. That honesty is what makes you one of my most trusted shinobi.”

Kakashi bit the inside of his cheek. That was absurd. He’d betrayed the Sandaime to Danzo and joined ROOT as a double agent in order to usurp him from the Hokage seat. _I almost got you killed a month ago-_

“It would be best to honour the commitment you made to Iruka.”

Kakashi stared at the Hokage, jaw slack beneath his mask. His mind stuttered to a halt, trying to wrap around what was just said; the implications it had on his life. The teen’s jaw clicked shut, anger rising in his chest. Before he could protest, Hiruzen pushed forward.

“I’m assigning you both a two bedroom flat close to the Academy.” Hiruzen scribbled an address onto the back of a House Application Form with his calligraphy brush and held it out to Kakashi. “I assume that would be preferential to the Hatake Compound.”

The younger shinobi snatched the paper with barely contained rage. “Is that all, Hokage-sama?”

“Yes.” Sandaime sighed, shoulders sagging a bit. If words could kill, he'd been pushing up daisies right now. “You are dismissed.”

Kakashi turned heal, almost lunging out the open window. He paused, one foot already outside, only when Hiruzen added quietly. “You have both lost a great deal, my boy. I believe this arrangement will prove beneficial.”

Kakashi couldn’t say he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Lapsed Since Kyuubi's Release: Ten Weeks


	5. A New Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka moves into the new apartment with Kakashi.

All Iruka’s worldly possessions fit in one backpack. From the orphanage came three changes of clothes, a few toiletries, and a set of pyjamas. From the ruins of his home came a singled picture of his parents, his father’s watch, and a heavily sealed scroll he’d never seen open. A family heirloom, Kohari Umino used to tell her son. The secret to its intricate seal died with her. Whatever it held meant a lot to his mother. To find it intact was a small miracle. Iruka held onto it for his mother's sake.

He looked up at the large apartment complex looming before him. It was newly built if looks were any indication. Iruka double-checked the address scrawled messily across the paper held tight between his fingers. Scrawled across the page in messy writing were the address and apartment number (602) with a henohenomoheji below it. _A scarecrow? That’s kind of childish. Did Kakashi really write this?_ Iruka remembered doodling the henohenomoheji long before attending the Academy. It seems this was the right place regardless.

With a determined nod to himself, Iruka started up the six flights of stairs leading to his new home. About halfway up the fourth flight, he made a mental note to put more effort into tree walking during training. Being able to walk up the apartment complex would be much more efficient than all these steps.

The higher he climbed, the more Iruka began to feel subtle presses against his chakra. Each was slightly different and foreign, yet familiar enough to the ones his parents used for him to identify as wards. _There must be a lot of shinobi living here_. He looked around, a small part of him half expecting chunin to start popping out of the walls. The building remained quiet, almost eerily so. _Perhaps they all take the windows like Dad used to?_

The thought left a sharp ache in his chest. Iruka rubbed over his heart, biting his bottom lip to keep his tears at bay. He told Hokage-sama he wasn’t sad. His parents died fighting to protect the village. He was the son of heroes. Iruka meant every word of that. Besides, he had Kakashi now. Hokage-sama said they’d be living together. No more tracking that jerk down!

And Kakashi _was_ a jerk about the whole situation! They saved each other and found each other when no one else had. Iruka clenched his hands, stomping his feet a few times in frustration. Kakashi was there at the worst moment of his life. He promised, then disappeared. _Again_.

No matter how many ideas Iruka came up with, for escaping the orphanage and evading shinobi, he never actually found Kakashi.

He was here because Sarutobi-sama promised Kakashi would keep _his_ promise. “I will see to it, my boy. The resourcefulness and ingenuity you’ve shown are invaluable skills. That deserves recognition. I believe you will make a fine shinobi.” Iruka often mulled over the words Hiruzen spoke after coming across Iruka crying at the memorial stone.

If Iruka couldn’t trust the ANBU’s word, then he could the Hokage’s.

Iruka stared at the door he stopped in front of. Brass numbers read 602 clearly across the wood. The not-quite foreign feeling of wards probed at his chakra. The boy paused, unsure of what to do. No one told him wards would be in place. The inquiring poke became a bit more insistent. Nothing aggressive happened, so perhaps it was... friendly? Iruka’s brows furrowed as he concentrated on the chakra tug. Could wards differentiate allies from hostiles? He never thought about how wards worked before. The ones his parents used were always just there; silent protection he took for granted.

Hesitantly, Iruka pushed some chakra into his hand and rapped on the door. Something electric shot up his arm. The boy pulled back in alarm. An inaudible click sounded and the door creaked open. “Creepy...” Iruka shuddered, leaning over just enough to peek through the crack.

The apartment was black and quiet. Disappointment settle in Iruka's stomach. Kakashi wasn’t here. Or course he wasn’t here! Iruka huffed, puffing out his cheeks a bit. He flicked a light on, slamming the door behind him. Well, that didn’t matter. This was his apartment too. He had every intention of making himself at home.

Kicking his sandals off in the genkan Iruka padded down the small hallway that separated the living room and kitchen. The appliances were all new. An island doubled as a table. Iruka tugged out one of the stools tucked beneath it, taking a moment to admire the solid woodwork. He circled into the living room where the kotatsu was framed by a lumpy looking coach and several bookshelves already half full.

A secondary hall led to a shoebox bathroom and two bedrooms. Choosing a doorknob at random, Iruka found several packed boxes lining the wall of one bedroom. Spare pieces of ANBU armour and discarded clothes littered the floor. A familiar grey flak jacket dangled from the desk in the corner. The only personal touches to the room was a lone photo atop the dresser and... a shuriken quilt that had Iruka grinning.

The room screamed Kakashi.

Iruka pulled the door shut, and turned to the bedroom across the hall. His new room held the same furniture as Kakashi's: a dresser, fully made bed, desk and shelf. Iruka shrugged his backpack off and sat down on the bed. The mattress shifted beneath his weight, making him bounce a bit. After sharing a room with five other boys for the last two month, this felt like a lavish castle. Tears brimmed in his eyes and for once Iruka didn’t force them down. His grin grew until his cheeks ached.

A home. He finally had a _home_ again.

“Better get unpacked!”

It took a measly few minutes to unpack his bag. Iruka tucked his clothes into a drawer, set his mother’s scroll on the shelf and his father’s watch atop the dresser. When it came to the photograph, he paused. Small fingers silently traced his parents’ faces. The photo got smeared with dirt and the corner ripped. “I’ll make you both proud, I promise.” He tucked the picture beneath his pillow.

A grumbling stomach drove Iruka to the kitchen next. A quick rummage through the fridge planted an idea in the boy’s mind. “I’ll make dinner for Kakashi!” Nothing made his mother smile quite like coming home to a cooked meal. It was sure to please Kakashi too. With renewed determination, Iruka fished some rice, garden vegetables and haddock out and set to work.

Within ten minutes, the entire apartment filled with a grey haze. “Oh no!” With a panicked yelp, Iruka threw open the kitchen window. Smoke billowed up and out into the evening air with the blaring of the fire alarm. “No, no, no!!” Iruka turned quickly when a roar of heat went up behind him. “The stove!” Flames licked the burners, the rice and haddock raging away like tiny infernos.

Iruka went for the tap just as a wave of water splashed over him and the appliances from behind. “What are you _doing_?” The boy spit out some water, shoulders going stiff at the sharp tone. Iruka dared a glance over his shoulder. Kakashi stood in the hallway, his visible grey eye dark with carefully checked rage. “Are you trying to burn the apartment down?”

“N-No, I-”

“You haven’t even been here an hour yet.” The older boy took a step forward, arms crossed over his chest. That single gesture put a physical and emotional barrier between him and Iruka. “You clearly don’t know what you're doing.” Kakashi’s muttered, each word accusatory and laced with contempt. “What made you think to butt your nose into a situation you don’t understand was a good idea?”

Iruka took a step back, his shoulders pulling in towards his ears. “N-Nothing, I just-” He rubbed one arm; an unconscious effort to comfort himself.

“No one asked you to do anything!” Kakashi pushed into the kitchen until he stood directly over Iruka’s smaller form. The pre-genin seemed to shrink in on himself, tears slipping off his chin. “It’s not your place. You don’t belong here-”

“I was hungry!” Iruka wailed, trembling hands raising on instinct to protect his head. A tiny voice told him he was _cowering_. “I-I wanted to make you supper to surprise you.”

“I’m not your concern.”

Iruka’s bottom lip quivered so he bit it. Was Kakashi still referring to the fire? It didn't sound like it. “...I thought you’d be happy.”

“You thought wrong.”

Iruka grit his teeth, hands clenching into fists. “I-I didn’t do it on purpose! You don’t have to be so mean about it.”

Something passed through Kakashi’s visible eye Iruka couldn’t quite place. “If you can’t handle a little criticism, the door is right there.” The ANBU jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the genkan.

“...Y-you...” A blinding rage flared up in Iruka’s chest, quickly burning through his anxiety and fear. How dare he?! Where was he supposed to go?! He hadn’t asked Kakashi to make that promise. He was fine in the rural district. Kakashi didn’t need to lie to get him out. Iruka hadn't wanted to leave. The anger quickly grew into an inferno, raw and all-consuming. Iruka felt like his skin was burning. “You liar!!”

Kakashi blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the younger boy’s volatile temper. “I am not-”

“You are!” Iruka pushed himself up to his full height, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You said to trust you!” His face turned red. If that came from the yelling or anger wasn’t clear. “You promised not to leave me alone!” Iruka reached for the closest thing he could get his hands on and flung it at Kakashi. “You promised, Kakashi!!”

A mug flew right at Kakashi’s face. He caught it on reflex.

Iruka shoved by the older boy, vaguely aware of rapping at the window as he fled to his new bedroom. He locked the door behind him, dropping to the floor almost immediately. Iruka drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his arms. “...You’re a big, lying jerk Kakashi.” Iruka mumbled through the tears.

_And I believed you._

 

* * *

 

Kakashi scowled at the mug in his hand, silently sitting it aside when the rapping at the window grew more persistent. Iruka left it open after his little cooking mishap. He leaned over, thrust a hand out to the awaiting ANBU without a word. The messenger placed a scroll in his outstretched palm and disappeared.

A mission scroll.

He broke the seal with a bit more force than usual. Kakashi hadn’t lost his temper like that since- His grip tightened on the scroll until his knuckles turned white. Not since Obito died. The Uchiha had a way of riling him up Iruka emulated a bit too accurately for the ANBU's comfort. Kakashi unwound the scroll a bit, eye skimming the contents: s-rank and urgent. He needed to depart immediately. Kakashi’s brows furrowed as he read over a few mission detail.

 _Iruka deserved it._ The little idiot could’ve burned down the entire apartment complex.

Kakashi didn’t need Iruka trying to cook for him; didn’t need him getting friendly. They were roommates as per the Hokage’s insistence, nothing more. The kid was resourceful and devious enough to think on his feet. That did little good with the lack of emotional control he exhibited. Impulsive and temperamental, with his heart on his sleeve. Iruka wouldn’t last a month once he graduated.

How naive to get so hung up on a promise. It was a means to an end, nothing more. The kid would’ve wasted away to his death if Kakashi left him alone in the ruins of that house. Shinobi don’t make promises, especially not ones like that-

 _Don’t leave me alone_.

-They died too easily.

The scroll crumbling beneath his grasp snapped Kakashi from his inner monologue. He stared down at the Hokage’s code blankly, jaw clenching beneath his mask. _I’ve been rereading the same line._ Kakashi burned the scroll with a quick katon and grabbed some supplies from his bedroom. the soft sniffles coming from across the hall were ignored. This wasn’t the time to dwell on Iruka's emotional outburst.

Kakashi snapped his arm guards on, checking his weapons and storage scrolls with his camp supplies in them. His ANBU mask slid on like an old friend. The last thing he clipped into place was the med-kit Rin gave him for making jounin. Kakashi’s fingers brushed across the worn pouch. He never left without it.

Obito’s eye and Rin’s med-kit: that’s how he carried them with him. 

This mission came at the perfect time. He needed to get as far away from Iruka as possible so he could clear his head. Kakashi couldn’t seem to think objectively when Iruka was around. That meant death for an ANBU.

With a final glance toward Iruka’s bedroom, he leapt out the window.

Kakashi refused to feel guilty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Lapse Since Kyuubi's Release: Three Months


	6. Routines and Rice Balls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka has to play the waiting game. He's not a fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I-I don't know what happened. This chapter turned out twice as long as I intended. I hope you all enjoy it! I wanted to say thank you for all the kind comments and support I have gotten. 
> 
> There is a piece of fanart in this chapter I've had sitting on my computer for a long time. I thought it fit the scene well. A lovely reader had found the artist. Here is a link to the art's original post: https://tegaki.pipa.jp/s/478838/16139597.html The artist is: たつみ＊

Kakashi was gone.  
  
When Iruka finally emerged from his new bedroom, it was to an empty, silent apartment. Panic urge him to check the older boy’s room, only to find his belongings untouched and ANBU mask missing. Iruka let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. Kakashi wasn’t gone gone. Just, not here.  
  
His brows drew into a frown, mouth set in a stubborn line. Worry gave way to quickly blossoming anger. Good riddance to the lying jerk! I’ll be just fine on my own! Only, he didn’t want to be alone. A shiver crawled up Iruka’s spine. With a frustrated growl, he slammed the ANBU’s bedroom door closed and stomped into the kitchen.  
  
Iruka groaned, the fight slowly leaving him as he took in the mess. Everything was still dripping wet from Kakashi’s suiton jutsu. It wasn’t about to clean itself. Puffing out his cheeks in irritation, Iruka reached for the mop.  
  
It took most of the evening to get the kitchen back to semi-functioning order. Instead of chancing the stove again, Iruka got cup ramen from a little corner store down the road. The cashier, a little old lady with her hair in a bun, was nice enough to give him some ripe bananas. Just the way he liked them! He carried his groceries home, pride blossoming in his chest. Not bad for his first time shopping alone.  
  
It took a few days for Iruka to settle into a routine. He got up with the sun, grabbed a bite to eat, and prepared for school. The Academy took limited damage during the Kyuubi Attack. It reopened in the new year with a dramatic influx of civilian students. The once familiar space felt claustrophobic and overcrowded with so many strangers around.  
  
Despite the suffocating feeling that left Iruka more than a little anxious, he almost cried the first day back. Yoshino-sensei, alive and well, met her class at the front door. When she ruffled his hair and pushed him playfully towards his seat, a few tears did slip through.  
  
It was a bit surreal to see Yoshino-sensei yell with a baby on her back. Maternity was a luxury the village couldn’t afford with half their shinobi population dead. She came back to work early. Her son, Shikamaru-chan, was a cute little guy. When he wasn’t sleeping, he looked kind of bored. Iruka hadn’t know babies could make such an expression.

School made the days go fast. He paired with Mizuki when partners were needed. Spotters were essential for weapons practice. (No one wanted to impale Shikamaru-chan with a stray kunai.) It was good to know his friend’s family survived the Kyuubi Attack. He hadn’t seen much of Mizuki since then. Being at the Academy was nice. Normal. If Iruka closed his eyes, he could almost pretend his parents would be waiting for him at home.

Almost.

The ache never quite went away. Nor did the pitiful looks his classmates kept sending him. A few well-placed paint bombs took care of those. When the other kids were laughing at him, they weren't talking about him.

Iruka passed the time between the Academy and supper by training. He went over the katas Yoshino-sensei taught them, practiced the clone jutsu, his chakra control and tree walking. His father just started to teach Iruka the chakra control needed to tree walk when he died. Progress was slow when working alone. Iruka’s determination kept him going.  
  
Supper usually consisted of cup ramen grabbed from the corner store on the way home. He didn’t trust himself with the stove after the berating Kakashi gave him. He begrudgingly accepted the older boy was right. Iruka had no clue how to cook. Simple things like sandwiches were okay. His mother never had time to teach him.  
  
That constant ache in his chest throbbed painfully. _I miss you so much, Mom_. Iruka pushed the thoughts down with a shake of his head. Cooking was just one more thing to learn! Maybe Yoshino-sensei had a cookbook he could borrow?

A light snowfall settled over Konoha that evening. Iruka curled up beneath the kotatsu, ramen cup in hand and homework spread across the table. He wasn’t naturally gifted, but he knew how to apply himself. Ikkaku and Kohari Umino instilled a strong worth ethic in their young son. As the world turned white outside his window, Iruka worked diligently through a scientific diagram of the chakra network.

He fell asleep at the kotatsu, drooling onto his funijutsu report. There was something fascinating about seals and traps. Learning to use sealing scrolls like his mother topped his list for things to practice during training. New ideas still floated around his sleep-addled mind when he finally dragged himself to bed.

And so his new routine repeated, day in and out. Over and over again. Each day blurring together until two weeks passed by without a word from Kakashi. That was fine, really. As he said, the ANBU wasn’t Iruka’s concern. Kakashi was a powerful shinobi. He knew how to take care of himself. Worry about Kakashi wouldn’t bring him back any faster...

Iruka left the living room window unlocked that night.

 

* * *

 

“Iruka, my boy, how good of you to join an old man for a cup of tea.” The Hokage motioned for his young guest to take a seat at the chabudai.

“Thank you for the invitation, Hokage-sama.” Iruka, mindful of his manners, bowed to the village leader. His parents always lectured proper etiquette. The pre-genin settled at the small table, across from Hiruzen. Steam wafted from the teapot’s spout, ready to be enjoyed. “Shall I pour us some tea?”

“Please do.” Hiruzen nodded, taking a final puff from his pipe. “Tell me how your week has been, Iruka.” Invitations for tea with the Hokage came regularly since their conversation at the memorial stone. At first, Iruka had been all nervous manners and jittery clumsiness. The aging man’s gentle demeanour put him at ease after a visit or two.

“Well, I’ve been busy with school.” Iruka shifted onto his knees, reaching for the teapot. It looked expensive and old. He always worried about breaking it. The Sandaime always got him to pour their tea, despite his anxieties. “I borrowed a cookbook from Yoshino-sensei. I’m trying to learn how to make rice balls.” As much as he loved cup ramen, he knew it wasn’t healthy to eat as much as he did. “I’m studying and training hard. I can make three clones now.”

“Well done.” Hiruzen smiled, accepting the teacup once Iruka filled it. Honey-lemon herbal tea with a hint of ginseng; a favourite of the Hokage. “It seems you’re settling in well.”

Iruka scowled, pulling his own teacup towards him with an irritated jerk and a huff. “Yes, _I_ am settled in fine.” He puffed his cheeks out, mulling over whatever unpleasant thoughts popped into head.

The Hokage raised a brow; his face remained neutral. “Oh? Is the apartment not to your liking, Iruka?” If he had any idea as to the true cause of his young guest’s foul mood, he made no indication.

“N-No!” Iruka’s face paled, the question enough to snap him out of his irritated funk. He flailed a bit, hands waving before him in denial. “The apartment is great. Thank you so much for the opportunity. Everything I need is there for me...” He trailed off, eyes lowering to his teacup.

“Everything, Iruka?” Hiruzen prodded gently.

The frown was back, Iruka’s face scrunched up in thought. “It’s just...” This was ridiculous. He couldn’t be weighing the Hokage down with his insecurities and unfounded worrying. The man already did more than enough for him. Iruka wanted to be a shinobi. That meant serving the village and its leader, not the other way around. His hands fisted in his lap. But, so much time passed without a word. “Kakashi hasn’t come home since I moved in.”

“I see, then he didn’t tell you.” The Hokage sighed and took a sip of tea. For a moment, Hiruzen looked as he was: an old man, not the powerful shinobi his reputation glorified. Everything aged with time, even The God of Shinobi. “I sent Kakashi on a mission three weeks ago. That is all I’m able to tell you.”

“...Oh.” Something heavy dropped in Iruka’s stomach and twisted unpleasantly. He fell silent, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. A mission. No, Kakashi hadn’t told him. Iruka wasn’t sure if knowing made the worry better or worse. Shifting back a bit, he bowed his head to the Hokage. “Thank you for telling me, Hokage-sama.”

 

* * *

 

A couple of days after his visit with Hiruzen, Iruka figured out how to make rice balls. The shape was off, and the rice burnt on the first few, but they were edible. Iruka couldn’t be prouder. He packed several for lunch. _I’ll give one to Yoshino-sensei to try!_ He’d learned because of the cookbook she lent him after all.

With a rice ball held between his teeth, Iruka slung his school satchel over a shoulder. He slid on his sandals, pausing at the door. He's managed to cook something right. On a whim, he pulled a pencil and paper from his bag. Scrawling a quick message, Iruka sat the container of rice balls on the counter and propped the note up against him. He stepped back, staring at the container for a moment. _Kakashi’s been on his mission for a while. He’ll be hungry when he comes home._

With a nod, Iruka headed off to school.

He squirmed in his seat most of the day; distracted and forgetful. Kakashi would find the rice balls if he came home, right? Iruka left them out in the open with a note. Not that the jerk deserved it after what he did. But he was on a long mission. Probably a really hard one. Kakashi worked hard to keep the village safe. Iruka was part of the village, if only a very small one.

Even if he didn’t want Iruka’s help, he’d be tired and hungry when he came home.

For the first time, Iruka bolted from the Academy as soon as Yoshino-sensei released them for the day. Small feet pounded up the steps to the apartment. Iruka threw the door open, skidding into the kitchen with his sandals still on.

The container and note were untouched.

Iruka’s shoulders dropped in disappointment. He took one of the rice balls and bit into it. Well, tomorrow was another day. Kakashi had to come back sooner or later, mission not or. His stuff was all here!

Without realizing it, making rice balls for Kakashi became the newest part of his routine. Every morning he left a container full with a note on the counter. Each day after school, he swung by the apartment before training to see if they’d been eaten.

They never were.

Slowly, a month faded into two, and slowly, Iruka's worry mounted.

Iruka bit down the urge to ask Hiruzen about Kakashi during their visits. The Hokage made it clear he couldn’t give details about the mission. Iruka knew that. His parents were jounin. They kept secrets. He grew accustomed to one or both being absent from his life, sometimes for weeks on end. All shinobi did. But, Kakashi’d been gone for _months_ without a word.

Getting to sleep grew harder and harder. Nightmares about the Kyuubi Attack still plagued him. He checked Kakashi’s bedroom for a familiar silver head every morning when he got up and every night when he went to bed. Nothing. The lack of rest made concentrating in class difficult. Mizuki often asked why he stared out the window so much. Like Kakashi would randomly pop up in the training yard his classroom overlooked.

Yoshino-sensei got _loud_ when he didn’t pay attention.

The rice balls remained uneaten.

 

* * *

 

It was ten weeks to the day when something finally gave.

A heavy snowfall settled over Konoha and worsened quick enough the Academy let out an hour early. With a scarf wrapped up to his nose, and satchel thrown over his shoulder, Iruka headed out. There’d be no training today. The snow was almost up to his knees by the time he got home.

Stripping his winter clothes off by the door, Iruka headed for the kitchen out of routine-based habit. He’d figured out a few more basic foods after some practice. Boiled eggs and mixed vegetables joined the daily rice ball containers.

Rubbing his hands together to work out the chill, Iruka rounded the corner and froze. He blinked, then blinked again. And rubbed his widened eyes just to make sure. The container was open. “Kakashi...?” Iruka drew in a sharp breath and stumbled over to the counter for a better look. Sure enough, two of the rice balls, the carrots and the boiled eggs were gone. A crude henohenomoheji was scrawled at the bottom of his note. A scarecrow. “Kakashi!!”

Kakashi was back!

Iruka turned heel to the living room. The window he’d taken to leaving unlocked was open. He pulled it shut against the mounting cold outside. A clear trail lead from the window to Kakashi’s bedroom. The Kotatsu was slightly askew as if someone banged into on the way by. The small bookshelf lay toppled, books littered around it. A brown travel cloak was discarded in the hall.

Iruka bent to pick up a familiar hound mask just outside Kakashi’s door. He turned it over in hand; his first time holding it since uncovering the porcelain in the landslide. Iruka felt tears sting in his eyes. Meticulously glued, so it was next to invisible unless seen up close, was a crack across the left eye socket. “I-I don’t understand.” The same mask from the Kyuubi Attack. “Why?” Kakashi not only kept the mask, but he’d also fixed and continued to use it.

Clutching the mask to his chest, much like he’d done that fateful night his world seemed to end, Iruka stared at Kakashi’s tightly closed bedroom door. The pre-genin bit his bottom lip, teeth clenched as he fought with what do to. Anxiety left him squirming. Did he dare go in? Kakashi wouldn’t want him to. “ _I’m not your concern.”_ That’s what he said. But, it had been months.

 _Months_.

Iruka threw the bedroom door open on impulse, a sob catching in his throat. There: planted face-first and sideways across his shuriken quilt, still clad from head to toe in his ANBU armour, was Kakashi.

The ANBU mask hit the floor with a clatter. Kakashi jerked up onto his elbows, and rolled to his feet with kunai at the ready. Iruka couldn’t figure out why until he realized he was screaming loudly. “Kakashi!!!!” Feet thudded across the floor as Iruka threw himself at the older boy in a running tackle. “Kakashi!!! Kakashi!!!!” Iruka buried his face in the grey flak jacket. His arms closed tightly around the older boy’s ribs, hands fisting desperately into the thick material.

Kakashi grunted on impact, fingers trembling softly where he gripped the kunai. “Do you have a death wish, kid?” He hissed, the strain in his voice and sluggishness of his movements indicated chakra-exhaustion. Iruka shook his head and buried his face deeper into his chest. “What idiot startles a sleeping shinobi? I almost slit your... throat....”

Kakashi trailed off in a daze at the sound of sniffles and hiccups. "Kakashi!!!" Iruka cried into his chest loud and messy. “ _You’re alive_...!!” The flak jacket muffleds his wails and sobs but did nothing to hide how his shoulders shook and hands clutched the older boy.

“Mah...” The ANBU swallowed thickly, head lowered. A hesitant hand cupped the back of Iruka’s head, just below his ponytail. “...Not so tight. Cracked ribs.”

Iruka pulled back just enough to wrap his arms around Kakashi’s shoulders instead. “You jerk!!”

The only response he got was a grunt and awkward pat to his back. Iruka scowled through his tears and hit the ANBU’s shoulder. Kakashi let out a pained hiss. Iruka’s hand came away red. He paled, sitting back from the older boy. “You’re hurt.”

Of course, he was.

For claiming he wasn’t Iruka’s concern, Kakashi sure didn’t know how to take care of himself. “Take your armour off, I’m going to bandage that.”

“I don’t need you to-”

Iruka was already halfway to the door. “Take it off!” He shot Kakashi a frown through his lingering tears, hands planted firmly on his hips. When the older boy only stared at him, Iruka nodded once and went to get the first aid kit from the bathroom.

To say he was a bit surprised to find Kakashi actually listened, was an understatement. The dirt-caked armour lay discarded in a heap with his kunai poach and several scrolls. A deep gash just below Kakashi’s ANBU tattoo oozed blood. Pulling some gauze pads from the first aid kit, Iruka set to work.

Neither of them spoke while Iruka coiled the gauze roll around the ANBU’s bicep. A thick tension settled in the silence. Kakashi flexed his arm when the younger boy finished, checking the bandage wasn’t too tight. “I need a shower.” He finally spoke.

“...Oh.” Iruka tensed a bit, slowly closing the first aid kit. “R-Right.” He stood, trailing Kakashi into the hallway. He remained there until the water started running in the bathroom. Iruka rubbed his aching jaw. He clenched his teeth too hard again. _Now, what do I do?_

Iruka wandered into the living room, straightening up the bookshelf just to keep himself busy. Kakashi was home, but nothing changed. He’d go right back to yelling and breaking his promises. The water turned off and a few seconds later, the bedroom door clicked shut. Iruka shoved a few books onto a shelf. No, nothing would change unless he made it.

Uminos weren’t known for taking the easy road.

Getting to his feet, Iruka moved as quickly and quietly as he could. He pulled two cup ramen down from the cupboard and turned the kettle onto boil. Scooting into his bedroom, he changed into his pyjamas. Now barefoot, he headed back to the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

In a clean shirt and shorts, Kakashi felt a little more human. Exhaustion made his limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Obito’s eye pulled at this depleted chakra reserved, even closed. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Kakashi lowered himself to his bed. He could hear Iruka’s footsteps in the hall, going between his bedroom and the kitchen. And there it was, a reminder he wasn't alone anymore. Kakashi shifted, unsettled by the pre-genin's proximity.

He hadn’t expected Iruka to cry.

The ANBU's hand slid from his hair to rake over his bare face. Bothering with another mask seemed pointless in the privacy of his own room. Whatever Iruka was up to would surely keep him busy and out of Kakashi's hair.

 _Sleep_ . His mind told him. _You’re not thinking clearly_. He never seemed to when Iruka was around-

No, not Iruka. Chakra-exhaustion from two months chasing Orochimaru across Fire County. Kakashi swung his legs under his shuriken quilt, ready to sleep until he felt a little less like scum scraped off a shinobi sandal. Everything else could be sorted out later.

His bedroom door swung open. Standing in the doorway, with cup ramen in each hand and a blanket swathed over his shoulders, was Iruka. Clad in pyjamas. Kakashi’s brows furrowed, hand raising to cover his exposed face. “What are you doing?”

“I brought supper.” Iruka grinned, raising one ramen container slightly to emphasize the point. “You must be hungry. The rice balls can’t’ve been enough to fill you up.” He kicked the door closed with his foot and shoved a ramen cup into Kakashi’s hands.

Kakashi stared at the ramen, face blank. He didn’t need reminding about the container of unskillfully made food he’d stumbled upon in the kitchen. He’d run out of ration bars three days ago. Nothing tasted quite like Iruka’s rice balls.

“It’s beef flavoured.” Iruka pointed out as he wiggled into the bed next to him. The pre-genin ripped the cover off his ramen and took a hearty mouthful of the hot noodles. Iruka made no mention of the missing mask. That’s when it donned on Kakashi. _Why would he?_ Iruka saw him clad in ANBU gear more than standard shinobi attire. The Hound mask was more familiar to him than the one Kakashi normally wore. Something about that left a strange ache in his chest.

“You’re not staying in my room.” Kakashi found himself picking away at the ramen cup without realizing it.

“Of course I am.” Iruka snorted and slurped up several noodles. “You left me all alone, again. You didn’t even leave a note. Hokage-sama had to tell me you went on a mission. I thought you just... left.” He poked his chopsticks at the few remaining noodles, face scrunching up to keep more tears at bay. “...I was so scared. I-I thought you'd....” Iruka bit his bottom lip, trailing off. The kid seemed to do that a lot. “...Like them.” He added quietly.

Kakashi’s shoulders tensed. _He thought I died liked his parents did._ The heaviness in his stomach twisted painfully. _Guilt._ A tiny voice rang in the back of his mind. Kakashi sat his empty ramen cup and chopsticks on the nightstand. “Go to sleep, Iruka.”

“O-Okay.” The ramen cup was discarded on the floor. Scrubbing a hand across his eyes, Iruka flipped onto his stomach and buried down under the blankets. "...Welcome home, Kakashi."

When he finally stretched out at Iruka’s side, Kakashi was surprised to find the boy’s presence comfortable and reassuring.

Sleep came easily for the first time in too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Lapse Since Kyuubi's Release: Five months and two weeks.


	7. Heart-to-Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys come to a tentative understanding. Kakashi has an epiphany.

“No... No, Mom.” Whimpers and quiet pleas jerked Kakashi from sleep much deeper than he's used to. He had the kunai yanked from beneath his pillow before his mind caught up to the sounds’ source. Not an intruder. Iruka. A quick sweep showed the room secured and wards still in place. The ANBU re-stashed the kunai as the boy beside him let out a frightened whine. “Dad, don't go, please.”

Kakashi scrubbed a hand over his face to wake himself up and flipped on the lamp. His muscles ached, every moment sluggish, stilted. He needed more sleep to refill his exhausted chakra reserves. “Iruka, wake up.” The kid was having a nightmare. A bad one from the looks of it. He rolled onto his side to face the boy and gave his shoulder a firm shake. “Come on, wake up.”

Iruka woke with a gasp, eyes wide and pupils blown. The dark irises darted around in terror before finally coming into focus on his face. He could feel the kid shaking beneath his hand. “K-Kakashi.” Iruka sobbed, tears clinging to his cheeks. He turned into Kakashi’s chest, face buried in his shirt.

Kakashi stiffened, skin prickling at the contact. Iruka touched him whenever the need struck, without any reservations. He wasn’t sure what to do with that. No one touched Friend-Killer Kakashi after he killed Rin. No one besides Minato-sensei and Kushina-san, but they were dead now. “Maa...” He gave Iruka’s back an awkward rub, not sure what else to do. Comforting people was a skill he lacked. “You’re fine now. Go back to sleep.”

He waited until Iruka’s ponytail bobbed in a nod before rolling over to face the wall. There were sniffles and airy hiccups behind him. Kakashi pillowed his head on his uninjured arm. The mattress shifted, blankets tugging as Iruka squirmed to get comfortable. A hand fisted into the back of his shirt and stayed there. “....Thanks, Kakashi.”

Goosebumps raised across his arms. The ANBU bit the inside of his cheek and pressed his head deeper into the pillow. “Don’t-” _Don’t thank me. Never be grateful to someone like me. “..._ Don’t mention it.” Kakashi held his hand out, staring at the palm long after Iruka’s breathing evened out again. He killed Rin with this hand. Everyone he touched died. Kakashi couldn’t save anyone.

How was he supposed to keep this stubborn kid alive?

 

* * *

 

The next time Kakashi awoke, it was to the sun streaming across his face. he squinted, a gap in the curtains perfectly aligned with his eyes. A warm weight pressed firmly to his back. He moved to sit up, only for the small arm thrown over his ribs to tighten. Iruka grumbled in his sleep, face rubbing between Kakashi’s shoulder blades. The ANBU pinched the bridge of his nose.

Iruka was a cuddler.

“Maa... You can let go now.” Kakashi tapped the back of Iruka’s hand. When that did nothing to awaken the younger boy, he grabbed his wrist to pull his arm away. Iruka muttered something unintelligible and wiggled even close.

Scratch that. Iruka was an _aggressive_ cuddler.

Great.

Kakashi really shouldn’t have to rely on his shinobi training to untangle himself from a ten-year-old. Yet he found himself doing just that; much to his embarrassment. It was only once he spider-climbed half way up the wall, minusculely recovered chakra sticking his hands and feet to the wood, that he realized the ridiculous lengths he took just to avoid waking Iruka up.

Once more, his objectivity went out the metaphorical window with Iruka around. The kid in question flopped onto his back, limbs splayed like a starfish across the mattress. Not a hint of awareness to his prone form. Kakashi could easily slit Iruka’s throat without any resistance. Pure awe, mixed with a healthy dose of dread, crawled up Kakashi’s spine. With spatial awareness like that, it was a miracle Iruka survived as long as he had, let alone kept their apartment in one piece. _I need some tea._

By the time Kakashi made it to the kitchen, a heavy ache settled in his exhausted body. Breakfast would be simple this morning. He didn’t have the energy to cook anything elaborate. Kakashi opened the cupboard to get the rice box, only to stop and stare in utter disbelief. The shelves were filled with nothing but instant ramen.

The sheer amount was alarming. Two people couldn’t possibly eat all this, let alone one scrawny kid. Kakashi pushed a few ramen cups aside until he found the rice. He loaded it into the rice cooker, making a mental note to teach Iruka proper grocery shopping etiquette. Left to his own devices, he’d kill them both with salt intake.

Kakashi turned the kettle on to boil. Some mugicha tea with a hint of jasmine would help soothe his nerves. Something non-caffeinated would be best if there was any chance of getting some more sleep. He put some miso soup in a pot to heat up and set about grilling some frozen mackerel. After a few moments, a pleasant aroma wafted through the apartment.

“...That smells good...” Iruka half-yawned, one hand scrubbing over an eye. He blinked at Kakashi, still half asleep.

With a sigh, Kakashi pulled two sets of dishes from the cupboard. “Sit down.”

Iruka hefted himself onto a stool, watching the ANBU work. Kakashi set two bowls of miso soup on the table, followed by two heaping plates full of rice and fried mackerel. At last, he took a seat and placed two steaming mugs of mugicha tea on the table. He motioned with a tip of his chopsticks for Iruka to eat and took a bite of his rice.

Iruka reached for the miso soup, chugging it like a bottle of water. Kakashi kept his eyes on his rice, concentrating solely on getting through his food. He tried not to dwell on this being the first meal he’d inadvertently cooked for someone else since his genin days. Memories of Obito and Rin filled his head. Them watching with watery mouths and starry eyes as he prepared dinner. How excited they were by the taste. It made learning to cook worthwhile. Now the thoughts left a dull weight in his chest.

Obito’s eye throbbed behind the closed lid.

An awkward silence settled between the pair. Every few moments, Iruka glanced up at him. The persistent, yet wary gaze left Kakashi’s skin crawling. The only thing more stupid than waking a paranoid shinobi was blatantly staring at him. He reached for his teacup, taking a sip in hopes of calming the urge to _eliminate the threat_ his instincts kept insisting was present. Iruka was clearly trying to work up the courage to tell him something. Whatever it was needed to be said before he lost his patience.

Kakashi shoved his chopsticks into his remaining rice. “Whatever you’re trying to say-”

“I thought you were dead.” Iruka blurted out.

Kakashi’s mouth snaps shut, gaze fixed on his teacup. A chill slid down his spine. Well now. _Hello there, Elephant in the Room_. His gripped tightened. As if a mug could ground him. An unpleasant sensation he’d come to identify as guilt pressed down on his shoulders.

In the wake of his silence, Iruka barrelled forward. “I know you were really mad at me when you left. I-I thought about what you said and you’re right. I could have caused a fire or something. So Yoshino-sensei lent me a cookbook and I’m learning so it won’t happen again.” Once Iruka started, the words tumbled out of his mouth in an anxious ramble. “So I understand why you got angry with me. A-and I’m sorry.”

The uncomfortable weight seemed to increase with every word. “Umino...”

“My name’s Iruka!”

“I know that.”

“Then call me Iruka! Not Umino. You do that when you’re planning to disappear again. I hate that.”

Kakashi frowned, brows knitting together. Anger flared up before he got a hold of his emotions. “I’m an elite shinobi, I don’t run away.”

“Yes, you do!” Iruka’s shoulders went tense when he sprung to his feet. He looked straight at Kakashi, too passionate and shrewd for a shinobi-in-training. _You’ll be dead in a month._ That thought visited Kakashi too frequently over the last few months. He wouldn’t be the reason another person died. “You keep running away from me! You got me to trust you. I felt safe and you just _left me_ all alone! At the shelter, and the orphanage and now our home!” Iruka thrust a finger at Kakashi over the island. “You can get mad, and lecture me all you want, but you don’t get to leave without a word. Not again. You’re a huge jerk, Kakashi!”

For a moment, Kakashi stared at the pre-genin in utter disbelief. His chest heaved as his tangent trailed off. Iruka's face slowly turned red as the silence stretched between them.

Kakashi scrubbed a hand through his hair and closed his eyes against the mounting exhaustion. Iruka caught him off guard, _again_. Kakashi had a decade of reading people under his belt. He could pick up on subtle behavioural patterns to accurately predict another’s behaviour. Iruka followed no logical trajectory. His reactionary course veered away from any potential outcome Kakashi expected.

That’s when the pieces finally clicked and sent Kakashi reeling.

He couldn’t read Iruka.

A ten-year-old achieved what even highly skilled shinobi could not. Somehow, this unflappable kid wormed his way beneath Kakashi’s defences. _It seems Iruka's resourceful in traditional and unconventional means._

“...Mah.” Kakashi rubbed a shaky hand over his facial scar. The throbbing from Obito's eye quickly mounted into a headache. He reached for his tea, taking a few sips and a much needed second to compose himself. “You’re not entirely wrong.” It stung his pride to admit that much.

“You lied to me, Kakashi. That makes it hard to believe you.” Iruka scooted back onto his stool, breakfast long forgotten. “But, I thought we made a good team. That... That night I mean.” The boy blinked, eyes brimming with tears. The Kyuubi Attack remained a festering wound for every citizen of Konoha. “We made it out alive. Together. And you,” Iruka motioned up and down his chest with both hands to mimic a flak jacket. “for Mom.”

“You think we made a good team, huh?” Kakashi finished his tea, taking a moment to study the Academy student before him; really study him. Iruka was... honestly terrifying. More boisterous than Obito, stubborner than Kushina-san, more steadfast than Minato-sensei.... kinder than Rin. Everything his heart ached for rolled up in one resolute little package. “...I guess we did...” He admitted slowly.

Iruka nodded, mouth set in a determined lined. “The Academy graduation exam's in three months. I’m going to work hard and pass it. Then, I’ll officially be a shinobi too. That’s a promise.” Iruka grinned, bright and welcoming as the sun, then added. " _I_ keep my promises."

Kakashi leaned back on the stool, head cocked to the side. _Cheeky little brat_. Iruka wasn’t slated to take the examination for another year. With the Third Shinobi War over, the Sandaime changed the policies surrounding graduation age to twelve. But the village’s forces were depleted due to the Kyuubi Attack. More active ninjas were desperately needed to serve Konoha. If Iruka applied, they’d let him attempt the exam. Looking at that smile, Kakashi couldn’t help think he’d passed it too. “Then we better start training.”

“We?” Iruka’s eyes brightened in a way Kakashi never expected to see. Determination. Eagerness. _Hope_. “You mean...?”

"Mah..." Kakashi eye smiled. "Can’t have my partner dragging the team down, Iruka.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Lapse Since Kyuubi's Release: Five Months, Two Weeks and One Day


	8. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A training montage, a poor rooster, a manipulative brat, and a new friend for Iruka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This happened. As you may have noticed, I added another chapter. This part of the story got a little out of hand. I had to split it in two. Chapter eight is the longest I've written so far. Also note: there are poor attempts at comedy and action in this chapter, both of which are not my strong suit as a writer. Feedback on both aspects would be greatly appreciated. I want to improve my abilities as an Author. Enjoy!

Unaware of exactly what skills his new roommate possessed, Kakashi started from the very beginning and stuck a birch leaf to Iruka’s forehead. “Hold it there as long as you can. Chakra only.”

“I know that.” Iruka scowled, but the leaf remained in place when Kakashi drew his hand away. “Yoshino-sensei get us to do Leaf Concentration Practice while she’s at the blackboard.”

Kakashi raised a brow. That was an unexpectedly underhanded, yet brilliant way to maximize class time. A practice in multitasking, concentration and chakra-control all wrapped up with whatever textbook concept the teacher lectured. An unorthodox teaching method yes, but it would benefit students if they made genin. He was impressed. That didn't happen often. “Yoshino-sensei you say?” The name rung a bell from somewhere. No, it couldn’t be who he expected. “As in Yoshino Nara, the Nara Clan Head’s wife?”

Iruka almost went cross-eyed trying to look at his leaf. He grinned at the mention of his Academy sensei. “That’s her.” The affection held for his teacher was evident in Iruka’s tone. “She likes to yell, but I learn a lot from her. She’s always there when I need help. Shikamaru-chan’s been coming to school with her since the Academy reopened. Pretty amazing, huh?”

“Sounds like quite the teacher.” Amazing wasn’t the word Kakashi would choose. Terrifying more like it. Yoshino was renowned as the woman who made their Jounin Commander cower. Her temper was stories of legend shared in quiet whispers throughout the Jounin Standby Station.

“She really is! You’ll never guess what she showed us last week...” While Iruka gushed about his beloved sensei, Kakashi took the time to watch the boy. He chattered endlessly, waving his hands in grand gestures to emphasize certain points. He rocked on the balls of his feet, animated and excited. Yet the leaf didn’t budge. It remained fixed right where Kakashi stuck it. The kid seemly paid no attention to the task. Yoshino Nara effectively conditioned essential shinobi skill into a ten-year-old without it being noticed. If she succeeded as well with her other students as she had Iruka, the next few rounds of genin rookies would be a force of nature.

“Can you hold that there for a while?” Kakashi pointed to the birch leaf.

Iruka blinked, going cross-eyed again as he glanced up. “I think so.”

“Perfect!” Kakashi eye-smiled. “Practice some katas while you’re at it. I’ll be back later.”

“Okay. Wait, what-?!”

Kakashi was gone in a puff of smoke before Iruka got all his words out.

 

* * *

 

Kakashi lost track of time at the Memorial Stone and swung by the training grounds he'd left Iruka at close to dusk. He settled comfortably into a tree a few hundred yards from the kid and suppressed his chakra. A pre-genin shouldn’t be able to sense him. But after the earlier display of Yoshino Nara’s demonic teaching, the paranoid part of Kakashi wasn’t sure. Better prepared than caught off guard.

Iruka was fuming through his exhaustion and stubbornly pushed on. Kakashi deliberately pissed him off by leaving, just to see if it affected his concentration. The pre-genin's emotions were strong. He wore his heart on his sleeve. That would get him killed if he couldn't control it.

His mouth moved in silent mutters as he slipped from one basic kata to the next. A slight tremble to his arms; a pause between sets. Kakashi could feel his chakra waver, even from this distance. Iruka’s form was mostly solid. An arm went slightly off angle, a foot shifting just a bit too far, more a sign of mounting fatigue than lack of skill. A quick mental check of the sun’s position showed three hours passed since his departure. Iruka’s chest heaved, breathing laboured with the effort to keep going. The leaf had slipped a few inches, resting between his eyes more than his temple.

An unexpected warmth blossomed in his chest. Stubborn kid. Kakashi hadn’t expected him to keep at it, let alone maintain the leaf as well as he had. _Let’s see how long he keeps it up._ The ANBU pulled a blue-covered book from his weapons pouch and flipped it open. ‘ _A Parents Guide to Shinobi Basics’_ wasn’t Kakashi’s preferred reading material. Unfortunately, his quick jaunt through the Academy at five left very little memory of what the curriculum exactly entailed. If he was going to build upon Iruka’s existing skilled, he needed to know what was taught. A helpful librarian guaranteed all General Skills covered at the Academy were in this book, so a quick skim was necessary.

He made it to chapter three before a dull thug rang up from the training field below. Iruka dropped to his back, sans leaf and panting. Kakashi snapped the book shut, tucked it into his holster and leapt to the ground.

 

* * *

 

Iruka took the paper square Kakashi held out to him. “Chakra Induction Paper?” He lifted it up, lips pursed in thought. “This’ll help with my training?”

“Litmus paper is produced from a special tree that’s fed chakra while grown. It will show your chakra affinity.” Kakashi cast a side glance to Iruka. “What are the five basic chakra natures?”

“Fire, Wind, Lightning, Earth and Water.” The pre-genin recited with ease. “Yoshino-sensei said most shinobi are more attuned to one than the others.”

“That’s the essentials of an affinity. Jutsu that align with your natural affinity are easier to learn and create. Knowing yours will help me decide which techniques would best compliment your abilities.” Kakashi held a litmus paper up between two fingers. “Simply push some chakra into the paper and:” The paper Kakashi held crumpled around his fingers. “Voila.”

Iruka’s jaw dropped. He stared at the wrinkled paper in awe. “What chakra affinity is that?”

“Lightning, now your turn. Use a small amount of chakra and concentrate.”

Iruka held the paper between his thumb and two fingers. He brought it close to his face, brows knitting together in concentration. The familiar warmth of his chakra tingled through his hand. Iruka drew some down his arm, letting the smallest wasps trickle out his fingers. Water seeped through the paper, making it go limp. “Oh, water affinity!”

Kakashi cocked his head to the side. “I thought that might be the case-”

The soggy litmus paper suddenly burst into flames. Iruka yelped and dropped it. The paper crumbled to ash before it hit the grass. Both boys stared at the bits of charred residue, surprise. “...Mah. It appeared you have an affinity for both water and fire natures.” Kakashi finally broke the silence. His voice demonstrated an air of calm to hide his reeling mind. Iruka had two affinities. It was rare, especially for two conflicting natures such as fire and water.

“This is a good thing, right?”

Kakashi eye-smiled to hide his uncertainty. Once more Iruka threw him a curveball. “Of course.”

“Alright then!” Iruka grinned and pumped a fist in the air. “I can learn some suiton and katon jutsu from you! I’m going to ace the exam.”

 

* * *

 

The kunai hit the targets with a dull thunk. Both struck bulls-eyes dead centre. Iruka whooped at his accomplishment. Kakashi tossed him two more and set the targets back ten more feet, at a slightly sharper angle. “Again.” Whenever he wasn’t on a mission, Kakashi spent his afternoons with Iruka in Training Ground 10.

“Okay!” Another dull thunk as the kunai hit their mark. Iruka slowly built up his accuracy. He could strike a target dead centre from fifty feet away now.

Kakashi passed another kunai to his young partner. “Over the shoulder.” Thinking of this arrangement as teamwork eased some of the tension he’d been carrying.

“Yes, sir.” Iruka spun ninety degrees and gave the kunai a spinning flick past his left ear. It hit the target on the second red ring. His blind tosses had a slight curve the pre-genin hadn't figured out how to adjust his throws for yet. Kakashi wouldn’t point it out. Trajectory dynamics made good exercises in critical thinking. Iruka had the intelligence to notice on his own, sooner or later.

“Work on that more tomorrow after school.” He’d be leaving on a mission that kept him out of Konoha a few days. Just a routine, B-rank merchant escort. No trouble was expected. Kakashi reached into his holster and pulled out a scroll. He tossed it into Iruka’s waiting hands. “Figure out how to open this while you’re at it.”

Iruka stared down at the scroll with a frown. “But you haven’t shown me how to unseal anything yet.”

“I thought you were interested in fuinjutsu.”

“I am! My mom... she used seals a lot.” Iruka opened the scroll to study the simple seal inked onto the parchment. “I didn’t know you knew fuinjutsu, Kakashi.”

“Mah... enough to get you started.” Kakashi shrugged and leaned back against a tree trunk. With Minato-sensei and Kushina-san’s passion for seals and barriers, they’d taught him a functioning knowledge throughout his childhood. They would've loved teaching Iruka, someone with a genuine interest in fuinjutsu. “Unsealing a scroll is the first step. Most shinobi use basic sealing scrolls to carry supplies during missions.” A useful and practical skill that could aid Iruka in the field. Kakashi used scrolls to carry everything from camp supplies, antidotes, extra weapons, and mission objectives (sometimes corpses, but he didn’t dwell on that).

Iruka rolled the scroll back up and slipped it a pocket. “What’s inside it?”

“You’ll know when you open it up.”

 

* * *

 

“Hmm...” Kakashi walked in a half circle around him. The scrutinizing gaze made his stomach flutter. Underlining nerves always buzzed beneath Iruka’s skin when Kakashi trained him. A small part of him feared to disappoint the ANBU. What if he disappeared again if Iruka couldn’t meet his standards? The older boy simply shifted his heel inwards a few inches. “Again.”

Iruka moved through each position, sounding the movements off in his head: _squat, step through with the right foot, circle arms around and two strikes. Shift weight back, step left foot through and strike-step, strike-step, strike-step. “_ Your back’s vulnerable, Iruka.” _Kick right, kick left into a half turn._ His hands flexed back, palm bared to deal a blow. The change Kakashi made to his stance helped him keep his balance better. _Strike-step, strike-step, bring the right foot back, circle right arm, kick, circle left arm, kick._ Iruka shifted into a finishing stance.

Kakashi hummed in approval. “You picked up the kata changes well. Your basics are solid.”

“Really?!”Iruka’s eyes went large at the praise. He grinned so wide, Kakashi could count every white tooth.

“Have more confidence in yourself.” Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Iruka smiled so bright and sincere, it left the older boy a bit flustered. The smiles occurred more frequently as they spent time together. It was kind of nice. “Would you like to spar?”

Iruka openly gaped at the ANBU. “With you? I’ll get my butt handed to me.”

“The impossible never stopped you before, Iruka.”

The pre-genin flailed, mouth opening and closing several times. “Impossible? I’ll show you-”

“RIVAL!!”

“...Of all the bad timing.” Kakashi’s half-lidded eye narrowed more. He scrubbed a hand through silver hair, exasperated, but resolute. “Maa... I have been avoiding him lately.”

The Iruka frowned in confusion. Before he could ask for further clarification, a spandex-clad shinobi landed right between them carrying- _was that a rooster_? Iruka openly stared at the cooing bird fixed firmly in the newcomer’s hands.

“Yo, Gai.” Kakashi raised a hand in greeting.

“Kakashi! My most noble rival! At long last, I have succeeded in my search!” The chicken let out a crow as Gai leaned into Kakashi, inadvertently thrusting the poor bird downward in the process. “If I did not locate you by lunch, I was to run fifty laps around Konoha on my hands!”

“Is that so?” Kakashi drawled, seemingly unaffected by Gai’s close proximity. “What’s with the rooster?”

“It is so we can settle our longstanding competition.” He thrust the bird out as if displaying a coveted treasure. “While I partook in my revitalizing morning routine, I heard a foreign merchant speak of a most honourable and youthful competition from their motherland! Rooster Toss!!”

Iruka dared to inch closer, eyes fixed on the chicken. Something nagged at the back of his mind. He knew that bird from somewhere. The distinctive blue ring around its neck was too familiar. “...Isn’t this Kannonji-san’s rooster?” The family ran a small farm a few blocks from their apartment. Iruka began buying eggs from them at a recommendation from the nice old lady at the corner store.

“Indeed!” Gai gave one of his infamous nice -guy poses with the squawking rooster tucked beneath his arm. “Such a perceptive young companion, Kakashi! It warms my heart to see you foster such a youthful friendship!!”

“Uhh...” Iruka glanced to Kakashi, who simply shrugged a shoulder. A silent confirmation to _just go with it_. “I’m Iruka Umino.” He eventually settles on and bows to Gai.

“Such polite manners!” The spandex-clad shinobi proclaimed, swooping low to return the bow. “I am Maito Gai! Chunin, Konoha’s Sublime Green Beast and Noblest of Gentlemen.”

Iruka blinked, then burst out laughing. Maito Gai was weirdly intense but nice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gai-san.” The pre-genin found himself liking the chunin more by the minute. Still, there was the problem of Kannonji-san’s poor chicken to contend with. “May I hold the rooster, please?” Iruka held his hands out expectantly.

“Most certainly, my Well-Mannered Associate!” He thrust the crowing fowl into Iruka’s waiting grasp. “Your offer to referee our outstanding competition is graciously accepted, Umino-kun!”

Iruka’s face paled. “I-I didn’t mean to-”

“Mah, Gai. Isn’t throwing roosters kind of cruel?” Kakashi interjected.

“Nonsense! Konoha produces the most vigorous of poultry!”

Iruka clutched the poor bird to his chest with every intention to protect it from becoming a squawking projectile. There were so many logical arguments to make against this. Taking Gai’s personality into account, none of them were likely to dissuade the chunin.

“But Gai, I... I need your help.” Getting the sentence out seemed to physically hurt Kakashi. “It’s a matter of utmost importance.” He added slowly, emphasizing the ‘utmost’ with a monotone drawl.

“Kakashi!!” Gai’s face lit up like a beacon, manly tears running down his cheeks. “Such a significant declaration between rivals cannot be ignored! As Konoha’s Most Nobel of Gentlemen, I shall solve your predicament or do five thousand squats!! Declare the quandary of your youth, Rival!!”

“Well you see, I wanted to teach Iruka some taijutsu-”

“Say no more Rival! I shall happily share my superior expertise with the blossoming Umino-san!” Gai struck a nice-guy pose, this time with two thumbs up as both hands were free.

“His basics are solid. We’ve been drilling katas the last few weeks.” Kakashi motioned to be handed the rooster. Iruka passed the bird over as gently as he could. The poor thing crowed and pecked at Kakashi’s black gloves. “I thought supplementing his skills with the Leaf Gale, Leaf Hurricane and Dynamic Entry would be beneficial for the genin exam. You get him started, Gai. I’ll return Kannonji-san’s rooster.” Kakashi made a tiger seal, disappearing quickly in a puff of smoke.

Iruka openly gaped for a moment, jaw slack. Remembering his manners, the boy pulled himself together enough to bow to the spandex-clad chunin. “Th-Thank you for your assistance, Gai-san!”

“Come, Umino-san! Let us dally in the spring of our youths!!”

 

* * *

 

Iruka hurt all over. Keeping up with Maito Gai was the hardest thing he’d ever done. The chunin kindly insisted Iruka join him for morning endurance training. So three days a week, in the wee hours of the morning before the Academy took in, Iruka participated in endurance training with Gai. It mostly consisted of running, push-ups, squats, sit-ups, lunges and suicides.

As intense as Gai was, he never expected Iruka to do anything beyond his abilities. Nothing crazy like running laps on his hands or wearing weights. Iruka never met someone so selflessly kind or enthusiastically supportive as Gai. It left him teary-eyed more than once, which left Gai crying and crushing him into hugs. As the endurance training slowly improved his stamina, so did his ability to use the techniques the chunin showed him. At some point, through the blood, sweat and tears, the spandex-clad shinobi became his friend.

Once in a while, Kakashi joined them in the mornings. Training those days quickly petered off into ridiculous ‘rival competitions’ that crashed and burned in utter disaster. They were officially banned from the southern market district after an incident involving florescent pigs and a toaster. Kakashi was still washing the ink out of his hair.

Iruka giggled a bit at the memory of Kakashi trying to scrub neon green from his silver hair and flipped his small notepad open. He propped a textbook up in front of him to keep the notepad hidden from Yoshino-sensei. She’d spent most of the afternoon reviewing answers from their last test. Having gotten only two incorrect, it seemed like a good time to review his notes from training. Iruka wrote down pieces of advice, technique instructions and a few tricks both Kakashi and Gai mentioned.

He flipped to the seal diagram he’d copied from the scroll Kakashi gave him a few weeks back. Yoshino-sensei said it looked like a simple tweak to the basic Enclosing Jutsu, but admitted she knew next to nothing about fuinjutsu. Iruka’s poked around through a few books at the library. It seemed Kakashi changed the seal’s directional arrows. Iruka’s working theory was the chakra flow needed to be reversed when added to the seal to unlock it. Only, he had no clue how to do that. The pre-genin made a quick note in the diagram margins.

“What are you doing, Iruka?” Mizuki hissed, leaning in to sneak a peek at Iruka’s notepad.

“Nothing.” Iruka insisted at a whisper, both hands covering the diagram so his friend couldn’t see. Mizuki had been sullen and distant lately. Iruka couldn’t figure out why. They got along the same as before, though they didn’t spend as much time together since he started training with Kakashi and Gai.

“You need to pay attention. I sit next to you. Yoshino-sensei will blame me if you cause a disturbance.” Mizuki frowned, the leaf fixed to his forehead sliding down between his eyebrows. Iruka's own held firm to his temple. “I know you don’t want to get me in trouble. Best friends don’t do that to each other.”

“Of course I don’t.” Iruka’s teeth clenched, the anxious habit he developed after the Kyuubi Attack still persisted. “This is just important too.”

“If it means that much to you, then I guess I can help you with it after school.” Mizuki turned his attention back to Yoshino-sensei. Thankfully, her attention seemed to be on the blackboard.

Iruka closed his notepad, tucking it safely into his pocket. “Thanks, but I have to train this afternoon.”

“You’re always training. There's never time for us to spend together anymore.”

“I know, I’m sorry Mizuki.” Iruka grabbed his textbook, eyes fixed on a random page. He was right. Iruka spent all his free time preparing for the exam. They hadn’t hung out together after school since his parents died. “It’s just the genin exam is next month.”

“That has nothing to do with you.” Mizuki folded his arms in that dismissive way he always did when he thought himself right. “Our class won’t take the exam until next year.”

“...I-I actually applied to take it with the graduating class.”

“What?!” The leaf fell from Mizuki’s forehead.

“Mizuki! Iruka! If you feel like talking, you can do it in the hall!” Yoshino-sensei bellowed; finger pointed towards the door. Shikamaru-chan blinked blearily, the shout having woken him up. “Other kids want to learn!”

Their classmates burst into laughter. Iruka slunk down in his seat a bit, face burning red. “Y-Yes, Yoshino-sensei.” Mizuki grumbled something he couldn’t make out and stomped down to the front of the room. After a moment, Iruka followed.

A tense silence set between them in the hall. Mizuki scowled, face turned away from the other boy. Iruka stared at his feet, guilt churning in his stomach. “I’m sorry.”

Mizuki scoffed. “No, you’re not. You said we’d graduate together. Since when are you this ambitious? What happened to the pranks you used to pull? All you’ve done lately is dump paint on some bullies.”

Iruka’s face burned for a completely different reason now. “I made a promise, Mizuki. I said I'd pass the exam this year and become a genin. I don’t break my promises.”

“Is that promise as important as our friendship?”

“...W-What?” The question caught him off-guard. Mizuki never spoke like this. Was he that upset? “They’re both important, but I promised Kakashi. I won’t break that.”

“I see how it is. You made a new friend, so you don’t need me now.” Mizuki slammed his fist against the wall behind them. “I’m always there for you, but that’s not good enough.

“Mizuki I didn’t say-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Iruka. Stop with the excuses.”

“You’re my friend, Mizuki. I’m sorry if you feel like I’m making excuses, but I need to get stronger so I can protect my precious people. I’m going to pass the exam and become a genin. Nothing you say is going to change my mind.”

 

* * *

 

“Something’s bothering you.” Kakashi visible eye trailed the pre-genin across Training Ground 10. He had the Water Bullet jutsu almost mastered. Now his chakra control and aim were both off. “Going on missions that distracted will get you killed.”

Iruka let out a frustrated cry and dug his hands into his hair. After a minute, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m sorry, Kakashi. I had a bad fight with a friend. I don’t know what to do to solve it.”

“Mah...” The ANBU shifted from one foot to the other. Iruka came to the wrong person for advice on friendship. “Perhaps some time... to let things settle would help?”

Iruka considered that for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” He grinned, though his jaw remained taught with tension. “Thanks, Kakashi.”

Kakashi exhaled slowly, grateful to have mostly dodged that particular subject. “Sparring’s the best way to alleviate stress.” He motioned the younger boy forward, falling easily into one of the basic stances he drilled Iruka on. “Gai’s on a mission. No interruptions this time.”

To Iruka’s credit, he hesitated for only a second before settling into a ready stance himself. “Bring it on!” He pulled three shuriken from his holster and lobbed them at Kakashi’s face. While the ANBU deflected them with a kunai, Iruka took a running leap and aimed a kick at his face.

Kakashi caught Iruka’s foot with his free hand, pushed chakra into his palm to boost his strength a bit, and shoved the pre-genin back. _Starting with a Dynamic Entry. Gai would be proud._ Iruka landed on his feet about ten feet away with the slightest of stumbles. It was enough. Kakashi closed the space between them while Iruka was off-balanced, kunai aimed to slit his throat.

Iruka went with the stumble, letting his weight pull him down to avoid the strike. He caught himself on his hands and kicked Kakashi in the stomach. There was a grunt, then a puff of smoke. A log clattered to the ground. Substitution jutsu! Iruka scrambled backward as half a dozen shuriken shot at him. He wasn’t fast enough to avoid them all: one sliced through his thigh. The pre-genin hissed, clenching his teeth through the pain.

He pressed his back to a tree trunk, hands moving through familiar hand seals: tiger, ox, tiger, rat. “Suiton: Water Bullet jutsu!” Chakra pooled in Iruka’s body as he drew in a deep breath and expelled the largest torrent of water he could in the direction the shuriken came.

Kakashi leapt from the trees, a Water Bullet of his own smashing head-on with Iruka’s. The two water columns crashed together, battling for dominance. The strain got to Iruka first. He cut his jutsu, dodging to the right as Kakashi’s Water Bullet broke the tree trunk behind Iruka in half.

Iruka charged his sparring partner, swinging a low kick at his legs. Kakashi stepped back at an angle, moving to get behind Iruka. The younger boy spun with him. _Don’t expose your back._ It was one of the first lessons Kakashi taught him. The ANBU bent low, swinging an upward roundhouse kick at Iruka’s side. It clipped his ribs when Iruka dodged left. Shifting his footing, Kakashi came up hard, his elbow jabbing into Iruka’s chin. His teeth drove through his tongue, a metallic, copper taste filling his mouth with the blood.

Kakashi followed through with a punch to the face. A familiar poof of smoke billowed around the ANBU’s fist. A log clattered at his feet. The mask hid his subtle smile. Iruka used a Substitution jutsu of his own. “Good.” He raised a kunai to intercept one that came flying towards his chest. The deflected kunai lodged into the group about a foot away. An explosive tag attached to it sizzled, ignited and exploded. Kakashi leapt into the trees, jumping branches several times as kunai with explosive tags followed him in a neat trail. It led him in a circle, bringing him back to the centre of Training Ground 10. Three Irukas jumped from the bushes, flinging shuriken as the distance between them closed. Kakashi exchanged blows with the clones, dispelling them with a few well-placed senbon.

During the brief scuffle, the air around Kakashi grew dense with misty fog. _He used the clones as a distraction. Clever._ The ANBU grabbed his hitai-ate and tugged it down over both eyes. He dropped back into a ready stance and waited.

His keen hearing picked up the unique ring of air-born shuriken. Kakashi raised his kunai, turning a bit to deflect the projectiles. Several clattered to the ground with dull thwack sounds, but one embedded itself into Kakashi’s shoulder blade. Surprised, the ANBU pushed his hitai-ate back into place and held his hand up to stop the spar.

The mist dissipated. Iruka stumbled from the bushes; bruised, bleeding and breathing hard. “H-How was that?”

“You overdid it, sit down.” Kakashi pulled the shuriken from his shoulder. He held back and got sloppy, his own fault. Still, a theory came to mind as to how Iruka pulled the last hit off. He wanted to confirm it. “Did you use a Shadow Shuriken jutsu at the end there?” He only showed Iruka the technique thrice, nowhere near enough for him to pick it up.

The pre-genin grinned cheekily from where he’d flopped to the ground. “I practised while you were on a mission. Gai helped some, though I don’t think he uses ninjutsu a whole lot.” Iruka shrugged and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Kakashi took a seat next to him, leaning back on his hands. “I see.” _You keep surprising me, Iruka. That’s the problem._ He closed his eyes, head tipping back. May settled in with the changing season; the sunshine warm while the air remained crisp. New growth surrounded them, buds, blossoms, green grass. _Rin loved Spring._ He opened Rin’s medic kit, tossing a field dressing to Iruka. The kid’s white pants were dyed red and brown. “Did you unseal the scroll?”

“Not yet...” Iruka fumbled with the bandage. He pulled it apart and stuck the adhesive side to the long cut across his thigh. It was shallow but long. Stitches wouldn’t be needed. “I think I figured out how it works. You tweaked the seal design so chakra needs to flow in backwards to open it. I just don’t know how to make my chakra do that yet. I’ll keep working on it!”

Kakashi slapped a field dressing over the puncture wound left by Iruka’s shuriken. “I want it unsealed by the end of the month.” Giving it to the pre-genin would be a moot point if it wasn’t opened by then.

Iruka frowned a bit. “Why then?”

“I guess you’ll have to open it to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Lapsed Since Kyuubi's Release: Seven Months


	9. Chakra Reversion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some unexpected tribulations won't stop Iruka from getting that damned scroll open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING: There is a panic attack-esque scene and some very poor coping mechanisms in this chapter. Just a heads up.
> 
> Also: Uchiwa is not a spelling error. A uchiwa fan is a symbol used by the Uchiha clan as their crest. When you read uchiwa in this chapter, it is referring to the fan symbol itself. Just for some clarification.

Kakashi tugged the bow of Iruka’s apron to make sure it was tied securely. His own was too small; an issue that seemingly stemmed from a growth spurt he didn’t remember having. Better overly-prepared than burned when training a new katon jutsu user. Flames were unpredictable. His partner smoothed the flame-resistant material, staring pointedly at the uchiwa fan emblazoned on the apron’s chest. Curiosity burned Iruka, but to his credit, the boy didn’t ask. Kakashi appreciated that more than he readily admitted.

“These aprons are used by the Uchiha clan to teach katon jutsu,” Kakashi offered in way of an explanation. The aprons were mostly for young children. With Iruka’s katon skills and control currently unknown, it was best to be safe.

Iruka fixed the ANBU with a stare, one eyebrow raised. Not quite disbelief, but uncertain. The pre-genin was perceptive. He knew he wasn’t getting the whole story as to why a non-Uchiha had specially designed tools meant solely for clan use. “These look old," he commented tactfully.

“They’ve seen a fair amount of use.” Kakashi’s hands smoothed down the faded uchiwa, fingers lingering against the white.

“Kind of dusty for being used a lot.” Iruka’s patted his down again to emphasize the point.

“Mah.” And there was that clever intuition Kakashi found both fascinating and infuriating. With some training, Iruka could talk himself around the most tight-lipped of people and get behind their defences without being realized. Kakashi made a mental note to keep his young, very impressionable friend far off ANBU’s radar. A natural skill like that made him prime recruitment material. “It’s been a few years.” Four or five if memory served correct.

“Does that mean I’m learning fire jutsu today?” A rhetorical question. If the carefully selected Training Ground 23, with an intersecting river, wasn’t give-away, the fire-proof aprons were. Iruka clapped his hands together, starry-eyed with eagerness. “Which one?”

“Katon Dan. It’s a lower rank jutsu. You should be able to master it before the exam.”

“Fire Release Bullet?” Iruka brought a hand to his mouth in thought. The name was similar to Katon: Flame Bullet, which indicated a relation. But that jutsu consisted of splitting one’s chakra. Half was converted into oil, and the second half used to ignite the jutsu. Iruka knew he lacked the skill to do that yet. “I don’t recognize it.”

“I’m not surprised.” Kakashi rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s the first jutsu I created.”

“What? How?!” Iruka went slack-jawed for a minute, his excitement quickly winning over the initial surprise. “You made a jutsu all by yourself?”

“Well, not this one.” The ANBU admitted in a slow, quiet voice. “...Not on my own.”

The pre-genin chewed on his bottom lip, eyes shifting to the uchiwa on his chest. “O-Oh.” His excitement abated. Kakashi could almost see the pieces click together in his head. Two, child-sized, uchiwa embroidered, fireproof aprons originating from a clan known as much for their katon jutsu as their kekkei genkai.

“Go on.” Kakashi pressed a hand over Obito’s hitai-ate covered sharingan. No sense beating around the bush about it now. “Ask if you want.”

Iruka paused a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t need to. You’ll tell me if you want me to know.” He gave the uchiwa fan an affectionate pat and turned to Kakashi with steadfast determination. “I’ll make your friend proud.”

Kakashi fingers dug into the metal of his hitai-ate, the material beneath grew damp with Obito’s tears. His chest constricted tightly, making it difficult to breathe. _His friend_. Obito was so much more than that. Having been stuck in his own egotistical self-righteousness, Kakashi refused to acknowledge what his teammate really meant to him until it was too late. Something ached inside him, buried deep and raw beneath layers of duty and denial.

“Kakashi, you’re bleeding!” Iruka’s pale face hovered in front of him. When did he get that close? The pre-genin reached for his face. The ANBU jerked back on instinct alone. Kakashi gripped the hitai-ate so hard his knuckles turned white. Obito cried blood, not tears.

The ANBU slipped his hand beneath the cloth and pressed a palm over Obito’s sharingan. “Let’s begin the lesson.” Kakashi forced an eye-smile so fake Iruka winched. Jutsu he knew, that was easy. Whatever this conversation turned into was not.

The tension in his jaw gave away Iruka’s clenched teeth. “O-Okay.”

Kakashi ruffled the pre-genin’s hair stiffly. That was the extent of reassurance he could muster. He spent the afternoon teaching Iruka the mechanics and hand seals of Katon Dan; demonstrating and making corrections to the pre-genin’s chakra expulsion and technique. Iruka remained quiet and compliant at each step.

The monotony kept his mind from the persistent, raw ache of memories he could never completely bury.

 

* * *

 

Iruka woke to water running in the bathroom. He yawned, rolling onto his stomach without giving it much thought. Kakashi got up and down frequently during the night. He hugged his pillow and waited for sleep to come again.

The water didn’t stop.

Iruka stared at the turtle clock Gai gave him, watching the minute hand slowly tick by. Ten, then twenty minutes. The water continued to run. Maybe Kakashi forgot the tap on? With a tired groan, the pre-genin rolled out of bed. Bare feet padded into the hall, a yawn leaving him.

“Mmh... Kashi?” He squinted, a hand raised to shield against light streaming from the bathroom. His eyes adjusted with a few blinks. “What are you doing?”

Kakashi hunched over the sink, shoulders drawn and tense as he scrubbed his hands furiously beneath the running water. “I won’t wash off.” He muttered to himself; panicked words whispered in hushed tones. He didn’t acknowledge Iruka’s presence or question. That wasn’t like him. The ANBU’s shinobi training left him hyper-aware of everyone and everything. “It won’t wash off.”

Iruka took a step closer out of worry. “...What won’t wash off?” Kakashi hadn’t gone on a mission. There was no reason for his hands to be dirty in the middle of the night. When he still received no answer, Iruka leaned around the older boy and froze.

Both eyes were visible; unfocused and teary. Blind panic shot up Iruka’s spine. A sharingan. Kakashi hid a sharingan under his hitai-ate. Three black tomoe spun languidly, casting a surreal image against his tear-stained cheeks and sweaty brow. Iruka drew in a sharp breath, eyes darting from Kakashi’s face to his hands. Beneath the soap suds, his hands were rubbed red and raw. “K-Kakashi.”

Iruka reached to grab the ANBU’s wrist, halting only when the muttering grew more frantic. “It won’t wash off, Rin. It won’t. It won’t. It won’t.” Kakashi’s nails dug scratches into the back of his left hand. Tears slipped down his bare cheeks.

Iruka’s teeth clenched against the pain in his chest. He ached for Kakashi. The pre-genin squeezed his eyes shut against mounting tears and grabbed the ANBU’s hands beneath the steaming water. “Stop Kakashi!” Blistering pain shot up his arms; burned through his hands. The water was scalding hot! Iruka flinched but held on tight.

A full body saccade made the older boy’s hands shake. Mismatched eyes fixed on Iruka’s face. Kakashi looked like a startled deer, ready to flee in a blind panic. “Do you see me now?” Iruka sniffled, his tears running over. He knew that look. It stared back at him from the mirror each time he woke up from a nightmare alone. That kind of agony only came with loss.

The pre-genin ducked beneath Kakashi’s arm and hugged him desperately. Iruka’s hands clenched into his sleep shirt. He clutches fists full of cotton, despite his fingers stinging from the hot water. The ANBU’s entire body went rigid and began to shake. His chest heaved beneath Iruka’s damp cheek. Sobs make Iruka’s shoulders tremble. “Please stop.” He begged quietly. “Please, please, please.” _You’re scaring me._

A strangled noise got caught in Kakashi’s throat. Neither made another move. Eternity seemed to pass, but Iruka didn't dare let go. He can’t with his most precious person hurting so much. Kakashi’d run away again, disappear into some dark place Iruka couldn’t reach him. They’d both be alone. Iruka whimpered when Kakashi’s cheek dropped atop his head and his arms closed around him. “...Kashi.”

The ANBU’s hands danced uncertain across his back, fingers flexing and curling quickly. “Iruka.” Then Kakashi was clutching him close and there were tears in his hair. His heart thumped erratically beneath Iruka’s ear. The hold tightened until it became uncomfortable; like Kakashi didn’t know how to hug properly. Maybe he didn’t. Iruka only received a pat to the head or a backrub whenever he hugged Kakashi.

The implication left a foul taste in Iruka’s mouth. He held Kakashi a little tighter. He lost track of how long they stayed there, clinging to each other like lost children they couldn’t be. Time seemed to spiral down the drain with the running water. The panicked adrenaline Iruka ran on, since stumbling upon Kakashi, slowly ebbed away until all that remained was bone-deep exhaustion. “I’m tired, Kakashi.” He rasped, throat hoarse from crying. The fatigue left his limbs heavy and aching. The ANBU’s hold loosened enough for Iruka to wiggle around and shut the water off.

Not trusting his voice further, the pre-genin took his friend’s hand and lead him back to bed. Iruka crawled under the blankets with Kakashi, burying down with his face in the pillow. His mind ran wild, trying to piece together what just happened. Too many questions, not enough answers for an addled, sleep-deprived ten-year-old to ponder. When the fatigue finally won out, Iruka fell asleep with Kakashi smoothing back his hair.

 

* * *

 

It continued to bother him days later. Iruka woke up to an empty bed and breakfast almost ready. Kakashi greeted him with his usual “Yo”, and eye-smile. Like nothing happened. The red scalds left on his hands told a different story. Iruka brought it up once, but the ANBU evaded his questions with skilled ease. He hadn’t the courage to ask again.

Iruka scowled at the book on chakra manipulation in front of him. The library was pretty empty, as was usual for a Monday evening. Kakashi embarked on a mission right after breakfast, leaving him with only his thoughts for company. Working on the scroll should be a good distraction. Fuinjutsu and chakra control were complex studies. Today it did little to occupy his mind.

Iruka chewed his bottom lip. The lost look in Kakashi’s eyes that night still made him uneasy him. The pre-genin began to realize exactly how little he knew about the shinobi he lived with. Something bad happened to Kakashi, but Iruka had no clue what. He flipped his notebook open to the last page, running down the list he’d started a few days ago. Things he knew about Kakashi’s life: An orphan. Sensei died in the Kyuubi attack. He had a scar and sharingan. A dead childhood Uchiha friend. He was ANBU. Gai was his friend. The name Rin.

He knew how hard losing someone was. He didn’t want to put pressure on Kakashi to talk to him. That wasn’t right. Everyone grieved differently. But that wasn’t healthy. It was a festering wound. What could he do to help? “Ahh!” Iruka let out a frustrated cry. He flipped the notepad shut and scrubbed his fingers through his hair.

“You know Kid, you’re supposed to be quiet in the library.”

Iruka bolted up straight in his chair, cheeks burning red. “I-I uh...”

An older teen pulled out the chair across from him. Flipping it around, he straddled it backwards. A senbon jutted from the corner of his mouth. He folded his arms across the chair back, leaning in to get a look at the papers and books Iruka had scattered across the table. Both brows raised almost to his bandana’s brim. “Is this what you do every time you come here?” He tapped the open textbook on fuinjutsu.

Iruka pulled a few of the books a bit closer, self-consciously straightening some notes. “Uh... yeah.” He chewed on his bottom lip, mind still caught on the Kakashi Debacle. He hadn’t meant to bother anyone.

The newcomer let out a low whistle, senbon clicking between his teeth. His head cocked to the side a bit, brows knitting together. “You look utterly miserable Kid, what’s eating you?”

Iruka’s face flushed again. “W-well...” He couldn’t tell this stranger about what happened with Kakashi. Instead, he flipped his notepad opened and turned it around for the shinobi to see. “It’s this seal.” He pointed at the seal diagram he’d drawn previously. “I can’t get it open. I figured out the design was tweaked so chakra needs to flow in backward to open it, but I can’t do that. So I’m here trying to learn how.”

“Huh.” The shinobi picked up the notepad, skimming the notes Iruka scribbled in the margins. “I’m Genma Shiranui by the way.”

“Iruka Umino.” He dipped his head in a quick, but a respectful greeting. “I asked Yoshino-sensei and Gai-san, but neither of them uses fuinjutsu. I don’t think Gai uses chakra much at all.”

“You talking about Maito Gai?” He flipped the page, reading over Iruka’s research.

“Yes, he’s my friend.”

“Gai and I were on the same genin team. I love the guy, but he can’t tell one tenketsu from the next.” Genma smirked and handed the notepad back. “You did good kid, colour me impressed.”

“Thanks.” Iruka gathered up his scattered papers and folded them into the notepad. “I still can’t open the scroll though.”

“Eh, I think you’ll get it if someone gives you a demonstration.” Genma tapped the open page of the chakra-manipulation book Iruka had open. “A quick chakra burst should be enough to open a seal design this simple. The reversion is what needs all the control. I don’t mind giving you a hand.”

Iruka stared at the shinobi, unable to keep the giddy excitement at bay. “Really?!”

“Sure, Kid. Any friend of Gai’s is a friend of mine.” He ruffled Iruka’s hair playfully. “Besides, you remind me of my favourite gremlins.”

Iruka wasn’t sure what that meant, but he wasn’t one to turn down a helping hand. After weeks of trying to figure out the seal and chakra manipulation on his own, he’d hit a brick wall. This was welcomed aid.

Genma shot the librarian a two-fingered salute on the way out. After a bit of searching, the unlikely pair found an unoccupied space in Training Ground 14.

“C’mere Iruka.” Genma crouched down, balancing his elbows on his knees. He waited for the pre-genin to join him before holding out his hand. “Watch close, I can only do this a few times. Chakra isn’t meant to be reversed. It messes up the body’s natural pathways.” Chakra gathered in his palm, forming a bluish mass visible to the naked eye. “You’ve gotta twist it right at the tenketsu expulsion point.” The visible chakra began to quiver and waver, like loose cloth in the wind. Genma’s brows knit together, the senbon clicking when he clenched his teeth. His chakra gave a sudden whirl counter-clockwise and dispersed in a burst. “Phew. Something like that should be enough to open your seal.” Genma flexed and wiggled his fingers. “Now let me see you try.”

“Right!” Iruka sat down, crossing his legs to get comfortable.

“Make sure you gather chakra in your hand before releasing it.” Iruka held out his hand like Genma had done and bit his lip to help him focus. The familiar warmth of his chakra sizzled up his arm, coiling dense against his palm. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to hold the chakra from automatically leaving his tenketsu.

The tokubetsu jounin gathered his own chakra, letting it glow blue in his palm again. “That should be enough, let me see what you got.”

Iruka’s hand shook as he let the built-up chakra through. It dispersed in a burst instead of gathering in his palm. “Damn it.”

Genma shrugged casually. “Try again.”

It took Iruka several attempts, reigning in his chakra, adding and gathering bits until the right balance was found. Even with that, his chakra sizzled and wavered at the edge of his control. About an hour in, Iruka managed to hold enough in his palm for a loose, lightly coloured mass to be visible.

Genma grinned and nodded once. “There ya go.” He remained on his haunches, repeatedly showing Iruka how to hold his chakra and offering additional instructions to clarify when the pre-genin seemed loss. Never did he grow exasperated or impatient with Iruka’s struggling progress.

By the time Genma finally halted the practice, Iruka was sweaty and panting from exertion. “Practice maintaining that a bit. I have some time Thursday after my shift at the Mission Desk. I can show you the actual reversion then if you want.”

Iruka dipped into an unsteady half-bow. “Thanks so much for your help, Shiranui-san!”

“Hey, none of that now. Just Genma’s good.” The tokubetsu jounin flushed a bit and gave his cheek an awkward scratch. “It’s no problem. I’ll see you Thursday, yeah? Swing by the mission room around seven.”

“Yes, Genma-sempai! Thank-you!!”

“What? Er... I guess ‘sempai’ is fine." Genma grinned around his senbon. "You’re welcome, Kid.”

 

* * *

 

It took over a week of practice and Genma’s careful instructions for Iruka to make progress with chakra reversion. He hadn’t mastered the process, but the tokubetsu jounin determined he made enough progress to do the rest on his own. Genma had a long term mission coming up. So with a ruffle to his hair and a final farewell, Iruka was left to pave his own progress.

That’s what lead to the kotatsu cleared from the living room and the scroll rolled out across the bare floor. Iruka knelt before the opened scroll with butterflies fluttering about in his stomach. Six weeks of research, problem-solving, and training culminated in this one minute. Iruka drew in a steady breath, exhaling deeply to calm his nerves. As Genma showed him, he held out his hand and pulled his chakra to the tenketsu in his hand. The pressure of pooling chakra sizzled across his skin, foreign yet familiar. The pre-genin held it, letting the pressure build before easing it into his palm. As soon as a blue hue became visible, he tensed the muscles in the lower part of his fingers. His chakra dipped in a quick counter-clockwise whirl. Iruka slammed his chakra-infused hand onto the seal and prayed Kakashi’s faith hadn’t been misplaced.

A dull bang, like a popping balloon, rang from the scroll. Smoke puffed from the seal, leaving the apartment hazy. The pre-genin fanned the smoke away with a hand. _I should’ve opened a window._ The amount seemed overtly dramatic for the small item that appeared atop the scroll. “A weapon pouch?” Sitting atop the seal was indeed a weapon holster. A high quality, very expensive looking one that bore an uncanny resemblance to the one Kakashi wore.

Iruka lifted it up, surprised by how heavy it felt. “Huh.” A fully stocked weapon pouch if the weight was any indication. He turned the pouch, looking it over from different angles. The material was leather, thick and durable for shinobi in the field. Curious, he unlatched the top and flipped it open.

The weapons inside were the same high quality as the holster. Kunai and shuriken were neatly tucked into individual slots. A zipper held soldier pills and ration bars. Tucked into the bottom were three scrolls carefully labelled with Kakashi’s familiar chicken scratch. Iruka read over the contents of each. One held camp supplies and another enough food and water to sustain a shinobi over a week. The third contained some medical supplies shinobi didn’t conventionally carry: antidotes for some common poisons, needles and medical grade thread, disinfectant and medicine for fevers.

Iruka restored the scrolls in the holster, almost missing the folded note tucked carefully between two kunai. The pre-genin unfolded it, expecting it to hold directions for what to do with the holster. What he read left him in tears. Scrawled in the same messy chicken scratch as the scrolls’ labels was a simple ‘ _Happy Birthday Iruka’_ with a henohenomoheji scribbled beneath it.

“Look who finally unsealed the scroll.” Kakashi lowered himself from the living room window and slid it shut behind him. A field dressing bound tight around his thigh and a dark circle beneath his visible eye seemed to be only visible effects from his week-long mission. He raised a hand in greeting. “I tried to get back early so I wouldn’t miss the whole day...”

Iruka’s face scrunched up, tears trickling down his cheeks. “...Kakashi.” A deeply rooted weight lifted from Iruka's chest. With everything that happened since the Kyuubi Attack, he’d tried to shove important dates aside. Holidays passed in a blur, unacknowledged. Why would his birthday be any different? None of his classmates said anything, not that he expected them to, especially with him and Mizuki at odds. With his parents gone, and the exam scheduled less than two weeks after his birthday, dwelling on the date felt pointless. He clutched the holster tightly. But Kakashi planned this present well in advance, even took precautions in case he was on a mission.

Kakashi’s weight shifted from one foot to the other; a gloved hand raising to sheepishly rub the back of his head. Both signs Iruka new meant he felt nervous. “Mah...” He began awkwardly, then paused to clear his throat. “I wasn’t sure what to get an eleven-year-old-”

His words cut off with a grunt as Iruka slammed into him full force. “Thank you! Thank you so much.” The pre-genin grinned and wiped his tears on his arm. “I-I didn’t think anyone knew.”

“I have my ways.” The ANBU eye-smiled and gave his hair an affectionate pat. “You’re outgrowing your clothes.”

Iruka looked down at his usual white attire. “Oh.” The pant legs came up a few inches above his shins. Bending the wrong way unintentionally exposed his midriff. Neither commented on him coming up to Kakashi’s shoulder. “I don’t have any other outfits.” Clothes cost money. His monthly allowance didn’t cover the additional cost. Iruka hoped to make what he had last until he earned his first genin paycheck.

Kakashi slid his tanto off and propped it against the wall. “I might have something that’ll fit.”

A few minutes later found Kakashi digging through the back of his closet and Iruka shooed off to the bathroom with his arms full of navy shinobi apparel. The pre-genin laid the clothes out, haphazardly trying different combinations to see what felt comfortable. Iruka wasn’t one to complain, but Kakashi had _questionable_ fashion sense.

What he finally settled on were standard three-quarter length shinobi pants and a blue t-shirt with an attached face mask. When Iruka pushed the mask down, it bunched snugly to his throat like a turtleneck. The outfit was a bit baggy, so he used a white belt to hold his pants up. He folded the rest and dropped them in his bedroom.

He found Kakashi still in his bedroom, putting clothes back in the closest. “How do I look?” He held his arms out and did a quick spin.

“Better. Darker hues are more suited to training and field missions.” The ANBU motioned Iruka over. He showed Iruka how to bind his legs and thigh with bandages to protect exposed skin. Then, he demonstrated the appropriate way to fasten a weapon holster to avoid chafing. With that done, he presented Iruka with plated arm guards and a green shuriken scarf.

The arm guards were made of thick, restricting material with high elasticity. They clung to his arms like a second skin and covered the bottom half of his hands. The plates had a few chips and dings from previous use. Iruka couldn’t care less. These kept Kakashi from injury at one time. He’d taken immaculate care of his clothes. “Thank you, Kakashi. I’ll take good care of these.”

“Mah, mah.” The ANBU looped the green scarf around Iruka’s neck to complete the new look. “It’s pretty close to suppertime. Ichiraku’s makes good ramen if you’re interested in getting some with me?”

“YES!!” Iruka jumped up excitedly. His birthday couldn’t possibly get any better!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Lapse Since Kyuubi's Attack: Seven Months and Three Weeks


	10. The Exam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka takes the Academy's Genin Exam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, this is it: the last chapter of Part One already! I want to thank everyone for the amazing support they've given over the last twoish months of writing! There will be an epilogue after this with some details on the upcoming Part Two. I hope you all enjoy <3

Iruka swallowed hard, eyes shifting from Kakashi’s face to the scroll in his hand. “...How long will you be gone?” He asked quietly.

Guilt twisted in the ANBU’s stomach to dally with disappointment. “I don’t know.” It was an honest answer. He truly didn’t. An A-rank recovery mission like this was a wild card in terms of time estimations. Extractions could range anywhere from a few days to a few months. The team of chunin managing to get a distress signal back via summon was a miracle in itself. They'd been doing recon when their mission went belly up, other available details were minimal at best.

Iruka nodded with silent acceptance. They both knew what this meant. Kakashi wouldn’t be here for the Academy’s graduation exam. Duty came before family. Iruka reached into his new holster and withdrew one of the kunai. He held it out to Kakashi, fingers trembling softly around the handle. “Here, it’ll keep you safe.”

For a split second, it was a tall blonde holding a three-pronged kunai out to him, not a brown-haired kid. Kakashi shook his head to force the memory down. The here and now was what he needed to protect. _You can’t fail again._ Iruka’s kunai held a slight cobalt tint to the metal. Kakashi fingered the kunai as he slipped the gift into his holster. “I’ll be going now.” He headed for the closest window.

“Remember your promise, Kakashi!”

Kakashi eye-smiled from his place balanced on the windowsill. “You too Iruka.” He slid his ANBU mask over his face and leapt into the dark night.

 

* * *

 

Nerves made every jittery step Iruka took feel like a death march to his untimely demise. Alone in their apartment without Kakashi, he slept fitfully. Anxiety had him up at the crack of dawn. Not even the fruit basket Gai ran by with boisterous well-wishes managed to abate the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. His exam was scheduled to start in an hour.

Iruka dipped his nose into the green shuriken scarf Kakashi gave him and took a moment to breathe. _You’ve got this Iruka!_ He kept telling himself. All that preparation wouldn’t go to waste. _You're going to keep that promise._ Kakashi, Gai and Genma took time to help him. He’d do them proud.

The Academy entrance loomed before him. Iruka shoved his hands into the pant pockets of his shinobi blues and balled them into fists. _Calm down, calm down, calm down._ The nerves would affect his exam performance at this rate. He paced in front of the Academy with his stomach doing flips.

“Iruka? What are you doing out here?”

His head jerked towards the voice, face scrunching up a bit as he tried to hold back tears. “Yoshino-sensei.”

She skimmed the clipboard held under one arm, brows knitted together. “You’re scheduled to take the graduation exam next.”

Iruka stared at his feet. They felt like lead. “I-I know.”

“You need to get your butt inside right now.” Yoshino-sensei thrust the clipboard towards the open door. Shikamaru-chan jostled awake from where he was nestled against her back. He blinked blearily and gurgled a soft protest. “And stop clenching your teeth. Didn’t I tell you that’s a bad habit?”

“S-Sorry Yoshino-sensei,” Iruka mumbled and pressed a hand to his jaw. Crap. He opened his mouth a bit to relieve the dull ache.

Her frown deepened. “Oh, Iruka.” Yoshino walked over to her young student, dark eyes searching his face. “Don’t second guess yourself now. I see how hard you’ve been working. If you weren’t ready to attempt the exam, I wouldn’t let you.” She raised a brow and planted a hand on her hip. “Or do you doubt my assessment, Young Man?”

Iruka paled. “N-No, Yoshino-sensei!” His hands shot out and shook furiously before him in denial.

She gave him a playful push towards the door. “Then get in there and do me proud.”

The pre-genin stumbled up the steps, glancing back at his sensei over his shoulder. She gave him a thumbs up. Iruka felt a bit of weight lift from his shoulders. Yoshino-sensei believed in him. Kakashi and Gai did too. He wouldn’t let them down. _I made a promise. Now it’s time to keep it._

With a determined nod, Iruka headed inside.

 

* * *

 

Classrooms on the second floor were silent with the school empty. Younger students had the week off while the graduation exams commenced. He found himself isolated in one such room. A single desk sat in the middle with a scroll atop it. Directions in Yoshino-sensei’s familiar, swirly writing were printed on the chalkboard. _‘The scroll contains the written exam. Open it and answer the questions. The time limit is half an hour.’_

Iruka scrambled for the scroll. That wasn’t a lot of time. He unrolled the scroll, draping it over the desk. “Huh.” It appeared to be a standard enclosing seal. Iruka took a few precious minutes to study the seal just to make sure. Yup. Pretty regular looking. He moulded some chakra into his palm and dispersed it into the seal. A familiar puff of smoke billowed up from the seal. Iruka grabbed the written exam and pushed the scroll onto the floor.

It consisted of ten questions. Most were hypothetical scenarios, wanting to know how he’d react, what he would do. Some were mathematics for weapon trajectories and others still jutsu counters they’d learned in class. He scribbled through his answers, taking a page from Kakashi’s chicken scrawl. Neatness wasn’t important with time running out. As long as the exam proctors could read it.

A sharp knock rapped on the classroom door just as Iruka threw down his pencil. Mebuki-sensei opened the door a crack. “Time’s up, Iruka-kun. Please hand-in your work and come with me. I will test you on your physical skills next: taijutsu, weapon proficiency and stamina.”

“Yes, Sensei!” Iruka wrote his name atop the paper and gave it to the slender woman at the door. Mebuki Haruno was the chunin sensei that taught beginner classes to the six and seven-year-olds. Iruka didn’t know her that well, but she seemed like a kind woman. The younger children flocked around her like little birds and talked about her constantly.

He was taken to the training grounds adjacent to the Academy. These were reserved exclusively for teaching pre-genin. A series of targets littered the field set at different distances, heights and angles. Mebuki-sensei drew a line in the gravel with her foot. “Try to hit the targets from behind this line, Iruka-kun. Kunai first, then shuriken. You may start when you’re ready.” She flipped a page on the clipboard and readied a pen to take notes.

Iruka drew the precious kunai Kakashi gave him from his new holster. Hitting targets shouldn’t be a problem. Kakashi drilled him until it felt like second nature. He gripped the kunai’s handle, silently wishing the butterflies in his stomach got the memo. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. ‘ _Hit the bullseye’_ Kakashi’s voice instructed in his head. Iruka moved on instinct, letting the dozens of practices with his friend guide him. Two kunai hit the first targets with a dull thunk: fifteen feet and twenty-five feet.

‘ _Again.’_ The new kunai felt perfectly balanced in his hand; like they were made for him. Another thunk rang dully from the forty-foot target. He hit the white ring closest to the bullseye. ‘ _Extend your wrist more.’_ A common mistake he made when nervous. The fourth kunai hit the sixty-foot target's direct centre.

‘ _Over the shoulder.’_ Iruka turned, took a step to the left, and flicked a kunai over his shoulder without a second thought. Kakashi made sure he could hit targets with blocked visibility. The kunai hit its mark on the forty-foot target. Iruka pulled the shuriken out next, repeating the throws performed with the kunai. Falling into routine chased the butterflies away. _I’m going to keep my promise Kakashi, just you wait._

Mebuki-sensei scribbled notes on her clipboard periodically. “Okay, Iruka-kun, that’s enough. Please step over here.” She motioned to a newly raked section of the gravel and sat her clipboard on an empty bench. “I will evaluate your taijutsu and stamina with a spar.” She settled easily into one of the Academy’s basic katas. “This is only to assess your skills. I won’t strike back.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Iruka settled into one of the slightly altered ready stances Kakashi showed him. Mebuki-sensei was a willowy, short woman. She’d come back off maternity leave early like Yoshino-sensei. If he could use her small stature to his advantage she might go down. Aiming for her legs may do the trick. _Leaf Hurricane seems the way to go._ Iruka inched forward, then spun into a high kick with his left foot aimed at the teacher’s stomach.

Mebuki blocked the blow with ease, as the pre-genin hoped she would. Iruka swiped his right leg in low at the chunin’s feet. She stepped into the blow, cushioning it against her bent knee. Iruka leapt back to regain his footing and charged the teacher again.

It went on like that for some time. Iruka tried different approaches, different angles. Punches and kicks all got blocked. He brought a knee up, tried a strategically placed elbow, even a Dynamic Entry with a hard kick aimed at Mebuki’s ribs. None of the strikes hit. All that endurance training with Gai, the tricks he and Kakashi taught to take down a larger, stronger opponent. None of them seemed to make a dent in her defences. Iruka couldn’t get a direct hit to her legs or feet. To Iruka, Mebuki Haruno was an unmovable force.

By the twenty minute mark, Iruka was covered in perspiration with his breathing laboured. Exhaustion pulled at his aching muscles. As a last attempt, the pre-genin charged the teacher for a final time. He feinted a punch to Mebuki’s chest. When she crossed her arms to block the blow, Iruka grabbed her forearm and flipped himself up over her head. Iruka twisted into the chunin’s blind spot and brought his heel down hard into the back of her head. The blow struck right where he intended it to.

Mebuki stumbled forward with a surprised yelp. “That’s enough!” She snarled, killing intent raising with the sudden change in temperament. “ _Shannaro_!” She turned with blinding speed and slammed a fist into Iruka’s stomach before he landed. He cried out, clutching his stomach as he fell onto his back hard.

“Oh no, Iruka-kun!” Mebuki knelt at his side, killing intent gone as quickly as it sprang up. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to react like that.” She helped him sit up, hand glowing green over his stomach. “I wasn’t expecting you to land a blow on me.” The teacher waved her free hand before her face in dismissal, as if she hadn’t just punched a student in the stomach.

Iruka went pale and swallowed hard. How was he supposed to respond to that? “I-It’s okay?” A shiver crawled down his spine. This was the wonderful sensei the littlest kids always gushed about? Mebuki Haruno was an absolutely terrifying woman.

She smiled wide and patted his stomach. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. Academy teachers knew basic medical ninjutsu, but this was Iruka’s first time needing it. “There, good as new. Let’s get you to the last part of your exam, okay?”

Iruka scrambled to his feet. “Y-Yes sensei!” A healthy dose of fearful respect had him walking on pins-and-needles until Mebuki handed Iruka and the clipboard off to Choubee Akimichi.

The stout Akimichi smiled softly and placed a hand on the pre-genin’s head. “You’ve grown, Iruka. I’m sure you’ll do well. Please stand over there.” He motioned to a large X spray painted into the grass.

“Thank-you, Choubee-sensei.” Iruka bowed respectfully and took his place. Choubee was Iruka’s first sensei way back when he first started at the Academy. The pre-genin held fond, yet faded memories of caring hands and gentle words. That first year was about the basics of basics. Learning to read and write, how to sit still, working together, compromise, building up stamina. A patient, caring teacher made the workload easier for children so young.

Choubee fixed his glasses up a bit higher on his nose. “Okay Iruka, I would like you to demonstrate a bushin and a henge please.”

“Yes, sir.” Iruka brought his hand together, running through the seals: ram, snake, tiger. Two clones puffed into existence on either side of him. He ran through the next set of seals: dog, boar, ram. Iruka felt a familiar, warm shimmer of chakra pass over his skin. Smoke billowed around him and his clones. When it cleared, Yoshino Nara, Kakashi Hatake and Maito Gai stood before Choubee.

The chunin sensei gave an approving hum, pencil working across the clipboard. “I’m going to throw a few kunai at you. I want you to use a substitution jutsu to dodge.” He tucked the clipboard under an arm. Choubee drew three kunai from his holster and tossed them at Iruka.

The kunai seemed to hit their mark, embedding into Iruka’s stomach. His body began to crumble. There was a puff of smoke, and a log clattered to the ground in his place. Choubee took note with a smile. “Excellent Iruka. You have five minutes. Show me what other jutsu you’ve practised, please.”

A shuriken came whizzing through the air with a second in its shadow. Both shuriken lodged into the log right below the teacher’s kunai. Iruka’s jumped down from the roof of the school and rolled the log off his X with a grin. Choubee-sensei basically gave him permission to show off. Iruka planned to do just that.

Iruka raised his hands, running through the seals he knew like second nature by now: tiger, ox, tiger, rat. “Suiton: Water Bullet jutsu.” He turned away from Choubee as chakra coiled in his stomach. Iruka drew a deep breath through his nose and expelled a rush of water. It left a good-sized puddle in the wet sand. Next, the pre-genin raised his right hand into a tiger seal. His form flickered. With a small smoke puff, he disappeared and popped up about five feet from where he was before. He was still working on the Body Flicker jutsu with Kakashi. A few feet was as far as he could go with his current skill level. Iruka hoped it would impress regardless of the short distance.

“Two minutes, Iruka.” Choubee-sensei flipped his pocket watch closed, watching the boy through his round glasses.

Iruka drew in a few deep breaths. Sweat beaded on his forehead, a slight tremble in his hands as he raised them to form the next set of seals: snake, monkey, horse. “Katon Dan.” Iruka felt his chakra reserves dip as he drew in a breath, moulding the air with the chakra gathering in his lungs. The exertion from the exam was starting to catch up with him. He blew out, streaming a blast of fire across the puddle he created earlier.

 _One more._ Iruka brought his hands into an ox seal, ready to end with the Hiding in Mist jutsu. _I can do one more._ His vision blackened at the corners as he made a snake seal and pulled at his dwindling chakra reserves. A large hand landed on Iruka’s shoulder. “That will do, Iruka, time’s up.” The pre-genin blinked, then blinked again. Choubee-sensei’s face slowly swam into view. “There’s water and snacks in Classroom A-04. Why don’t you eat something? Rest and replenish a bit of chakra. I need to discuss your performance with the other proctors.” He smiled softly at the pre-genin. Both them knew Iruka overdid it. Choubee Akimichi was too kind to point that out. “One of us will come to you when we’re done.”

Iruka’s hands dropped to his sides, shoulders slouching wearily. Dread crawled up his spine, cold and uncomforting. He dipped into an unsteady bow, remembering the manners his parents instilled in him. “Th-thank you, Choubee-sensei.” He’d messed up on his genin exam. This wasn’t good.

 

* * *

 

Iruka bit into an apple, forcing himself to chew. The butterflies returned, fluttering and twisting in his stomach until it felt like he swallowed rocks. The last thing he wanted to do was eat. Choubee-sensei was right though, the fresh fruit and water set out for students taking the exam helped replenish his energy. His vision stopped swimming sometime after his second apple and a few strawberries.

He took a sip from his half-empty water bottle and tried to stop his mind from wandering. Tried and failed. He went over every little detail of the past two hours. He barely finished the written exam in the allotted time frame. He let his nerves get the best of him and missed a bullseye throwing kunai. After Kakashi spent so much time drilling him on that. And all that endurance training with Gai. He still got fatigued. Choubee-sensei gave him a chance to show all their hard work and he failed at the last possible minute. All because he was too naive to realize his own limits.

Iruka squeezed his eyes shut against the frustrated tears building. _I promised Kakashi._ The bottle crunched in his hands. He chugged the remaining water and tossed the empty container into a trashcan by the teacher’s desk. _I promised Kakashi._

The classroom door slid open, startling Iruka from his spiralling thoughts. “Yoshino-sensei.” Iruka stood when his sensei shut the door behind her. Shikamaru-chan was asleep in his usual spot on her back.

“Come here, Iruka.” He never heard Yoshino-sensei use that tone before.

The pre-genin paled a bit but did as told. His feet felt heavy with each step he took. This was it. He’d failed.

“Mebuki-sensei, Choubee-sensei and I have evaluated your performance on each section of the Genin Classification Exam.” She got straight to the point. This was the Jounin Commander’s wife speaking to him now, not his beloved sensei. “You over-analyzed the seal, wasted precious time at both the written potion and ninjutsu application portions of the exam. You let your nerves affect your target precision. You showed a lack of self-awareness in regards to your own limitations. You don’t know when to quit. These aspects have the potential to get your or teammates killed during active duty.”

Iruka winced under the harsh words. He clasped his hands together behind his back, nails digging into his palms. He fought the urge to run. Humiliation had his cheeks flush. The back of his neck and ears tingled. Iruka grit his teeth so hard his jaw locked. This was worse than he thought. He’d given it everything he had and failed spectacularly. His eyes squeezed shut, fighting back the tears threatening to overflow. All that hard work for nothing. _I’m so sorry Kakashi._

Yoshino-sensei knelt before him. “I don’t know why you were so determined to take the exam a year early. I’m sure you have your reasons. Whatever they are, I’m sure Kohari and Ikkaku would be so proud of how much you’ve grown.” She snagged his hand and squeezed lightly. “Iruka, look at me.”

The pre-genin forced his eyes open, a few tears trickling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Yoshino-sensei.” She'd approved him taking the exam early. Iruka failed her as much as he had Kakashi and Gai.

“Will you have more confidence in yourself? You work hard enough for three students.” Yoshino Nara scowled and shook her head. “I’ve had the pleasure of being your teacher for the last three years. I’ve seen you grow from a little boy into the determined, clever young man you are today. You’ve suffered more than any child should. I worried your losses would drown you.” She cupped his cheek in her hand. Iruka could feel callouses softened from being off active duty. “Instead, here you are, pulling yourself forward. You performed better on the exam the half the graduating class we evaluated so far. Not only did you meet the written and ninjutsu requirements, but you also exceeded the Academy’s taijutsu standards. You’re a well-rounded fighter with solid basics you'll be able to build. Choubee-sensei spent the last half an hour gushing about your suiton and katon jutsu. The flaws I mentioned are things your jounin-sensei will help you work through.”

“Yoshino-sensei...” Iruka stared at his sensei, daring to let a bit of hope trickle through the dejection and confusion. “D-Does this mean...?” He trailed off, afraid to ask what he so desperately wanted to know.

Yoshino drew a Konoha hitai-ate from her weapon holster. She tried it around his forehead and brushed his bangs back gently. “Congratulations, Iruka Umino, Genin of Konohagakure. You pass. I’m so proud of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Elapse Since the Kyuubi's Release: Eight Months


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka celebrates becoming a genin by telling the two people who helped him the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the official end of Part One! Thanks to everyone who supported me through this. Your comments make my day and inspire me to write this quicker than I thought I would. Part Two is underway. You can find information about it in the end notes. As always, please enjoy and let me know what you think.

Iruka cried in front of Yoshino-sensei. Shinobi weren’t supposed to show emotions. Control was paramount. But his beloved sensei didn’t scold or lecture him. Instead, she pulled him into her arms and smoothed a soothing hand down his back. For the first time in months, Iruka felt a parent’s loving touch.

“I meant what I said, Iruka. I’m so proud of you.” Yoshino wiped his tears away with her sleeve. “Come to me if you need anything. Genin or not, you’ll always be my student.”

“I will.” Iruka brushed his fingers across her wrist, prolonging the contact for a few more minutes. “Thank you Yoshino-sensei, for everything.”

She drew him back to arm’s length, hands lingering on his shoulders for another moment. “Well then, go on.” She tapped his hitai-ate, right on the leaf symbol. “There’s someone else you need to tell, isn’t there?”

Iruka blinked, cheeks flooding with colour when he realized who she referred to. _Kakashi!!_ “H-How did you know?”

Yoshino-sensei shot him a blank look. “Really, Iruka? It’s obvious someone’s helping you train.”

The genin blushed so hard his ears began to tingle. “I-I’ll be going now.” He inched around his teacher and bolt for the door. Yoshino’s laughter followed him down the hall.

Dusk had fallen, bringing a cool breeze to the early summer evening. The sky bathed in shades of red, violets and blues against the setting sun. Iruka watched the sky with a hand pressed over his pounding heart. His cheeks still tingled, leaving him with a strange sense of giddy confusion. It was just Kakashi. He couldn’t let a bit of teasing get to him like that again.

He was a genin now.

A wide grin split across his face. He was a _genin_!

“I did it!” Iruka jumped up with an elated cry, fists pumping into the air. “I’m a genin!!” Any anxiety left seemed to ebb away in a fluid motion. The lack of tension left his muscles loose and a little heavy. What a strange sensation. Iruka worked his hands open and closed a few times. _It’s going to be okay._ And for the first time since his parents died, he honestly believed that. He was a shinobi. As important as his growing bonds with Kakashi and his new friends were, (Iruka never wanted to lose that) he could support himself.

Independence was freeing.

He found himself heading to Training Ground 12, the one he and Kakashi usually ended morning endurance training with Gai at. It was a long-shot, but with Kakashi currently out of Konoha on a mission, Maito Gai was the next person he wanted to tell.

Much to his surprise, the self-proclaimed Konoha's Green Beast was there, halfway through a series of handstand push-ups. “If I don't completely four thousand handstands, I will do a thousand laps around Konoha backwards!”

Iruka stopped at the edge of the training grounds. Gai hadn’t noticed him yet. That was often the case when the chunin really focused. The newly-minted genin squatted down and rolled onto his hands. He straightened his legs out to pull himself into a handstand and slowly walked himself over to his friend. “Gai-san!” Iruka was still unsteady on his hands. He lacked the upper body strength to do any fancy maneuvers outside of this semi-normal mobility.

The chunin in question turned at his voice. “Iruka-san!” Thankfully, Gai dropped the more formal ‘Umino-san’ upon Iruka’s request. After a passionate embrace, manly tears, and a loud declaration regarding their Blossoming Bud of Fervent Friendship. “You have donned the patriotic symbol of our glorious village!!” He shot Iruka a nice-guy pose from his upside-down position, complete with thumbs-up. “Congratulations! The springtime of your youth burns brightly on this sublime day!”

Iruka struggled to keep his arms from buckling through giddy laughter. Face planting into the grass was a sure fire way to ruin the mood. “Thanks, Gai-san.” He shifted his weight from one hand to the other. “I wanted to thank you again for all the training you helped me with.”

“Such thoughtfulness! I am honoured by your benevolent graces, my Most Appreciated Companion.” Tears streamed into Gai’s hairline. He pulled Iruka into an upside-down, one armed hug that nearly knocked the genin over.

“Would you mind if I keep training with you in the mornings?” Iruka asked in a voice muffled by the green spandex stretched across Gai’s chest.

“Of course! Our youth shall burn a trail into the rising sun!” The chunin flipped them both right-side-up and sat Iruka on his feet. He glanced around expectantly, brows knitting together in confusion. “Why is my Eternal Rival not at your side, Iruka-san?”

“Kakashi’s on a mission.”

Gai brought a hand to his chin in thought. “I’m sure my keen eye spotted his team at the Guard Station. My Rival’s silver locks are easy to detect...”

Something acutely calefacient shot through his chest, warming him from the inside out. _Kakashi!_ Of course, the spandex-clad chunin ran laps on the ramparts most afternoons. If anyone knew who came and went from Konoha, it was Maito Gai. “I’ve got to go, Gai-san!” Iruka turned heel without waiting for a reply.

Gai's call of "Farewell, My Friend!" trailed behind him.

Sound from the bustling village around him slowly ebbed away until all he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. _Kakashi!_ He twined his way through the crowded marketplace, working against the mass of civilians heading home from another day’s work. _Kakashi!_ The main gate loomed in the distance, the massive red arch a beacon against the darkened sky.

Going to the gate was a long shot. It made more sense to wait for Kakashi at their apartment. He always came in through the living room window after missions. The most logical choice didn't seem that important at the moment.

Iruka just wanted to see Kakashi.

The genin rounded a corner by the dango shop as the main gate came into view. There, clad in full ANBU attire with hound mask firmly in place, was the one person he waited all day to see. Kakashi looked a little battered, as expected from a higher-ranking mission. He spoke to another ANBU in a fox-shaped mask. The man towered several inches over his friend, brown hair pulled back in a half bun.

Iruka opened his mouth to call to Kakashi, only to clamp it shut again. He couldn’t go calling to a masked ANBU by name in public. Interrupting their conversation wasn’t wise either. Biting down his disappointment, Iruka took a step back. He’d wait for Kakashi at home.

 

* * *

 

Kitsune’s fox mask shifted slightly to the left, deeper into the village. “Hey Hound.” He tapped Kakashi on the shoulder with a light chuckle and pointed. “Isn’t that yours?”

It was just like Kitsune to joke around at inappropriate times. “What are you talking about?” Kakashi spared a glance, more to humour his teammate than out of genuine curiosity. His shoulders tensed in surprise. “Iruka.” Why was he all the way out here at this hour?

Kitsune shoved his hands in his pockets. “Looks like he passed.” Kakashi picked up the undertone of pride. “I wonder if my gremlins did that well?” The fox mask shifted slightly in the genin’s direction. “Go on, I don’t think it’ll hurt. No one’s around.”

Kakashi hesitated. “It’s against protocol.”

“I’ll keep watch for you. Don’t ruin it for the kid. He worked hard for that headband.” Kitsune motioned to his forehead. “You fretted the whole damn mission, now go see him.” He gave the younger teen a playful shove to the back.

Kakashi took a step forward and shot his teammate a look over his shoulder. “...Thanks.”

Kitsune shrugged a shoulder. “That’s what friends are for, Hound.” With that, he shunshined onto the closest rooftop.

Iruka watched the conversation between the ANBU from the same spot. Kakashi could tell his uncertainty from the crease in his brow and tension in his jaw. He was clenching his teeth again. With hesitant fingers, Kakashi pulled his mask off and clipped it to his belt. He knelt down on one knee and held a hand out to Iruka.

Whatever doubt Iruka grappled with went out the metaphorical window. “Kakashi...” His dark eyes shone glassy from the closest streetlamp, bright and warm like the sun. He took a full-on run right into Kakashi’s open arms. “Kakashi, I’m a genin!” Iruka threw his arms around the ANBU’s neck.

“I can see that.” He patted Iruka’s back, strain easing from his muscles. Being close to Iruka always brought him a sense of serene tranquillity. “You passed the exam, congratulation.”

“We did it.” Iruka pressed closer until they were cheek to cheek. “We really did it. All that training paid off.”

A shudder ran through Kakashi. His chest ached. Warmth seemed to radiate off Iruka and seep into his very core; to a place broken and guarded meticulously behind protective layers. “No Iruka, this was all you.” He wrapped the genin up in his arms and hugged him to his chest; to the raw-edged pain Kakashi kept shoving down and locking up tighter and deeper each time it threatened to crack his resolve.

Tears dampened his shirt collar. Iruka’s hands clenched into his flak jacket. “I kept my promise.”

“You did.” Kakashi shifted the genin just enough to press their foreheads together. Iruka’s warmth soothed the ache in his chest. His steady resilience anchored them together. Kakashi’s fingers curled against Iruka’s nape. His partner. His friend. His most precious person. “From now on, I’ll keep mine too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone have a guess as to who the ANBU Kitsune is? :3
> 
> That's all she wrote! This is my first time completing an entire, multi-chapter story. Even if it is only Part One of a multi-part series. The entire series is called Shinobi Don't Promise. If you want to keep up to date on the different parts as they are released, I suggest subscribing to the series as a whole.
> 
> Now: As I promised the information on Part Two. It is called "Paving Pathways". It will be about fifteen chapters and pick up directly following the epilogue of Fragmentary Assurances. So no time skip. Without giving too much away, it will focus on Iruka with his genin team and the continued development of his relationship with Kakashi. Also: The beginnings of some innocent romance. KakaIru is on its way. I promise. I have begun writing chapter one already. Please look for it either this weekend or early next week.
> 
> Thanks to everyone once again for the comments, kudos and support! I am so glad people love my story so much. I hope to see you all in Paving Pathways. <3 
> 
> -EternalSurvivor


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